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Cleopatra 


By    JACOB    ABBOTT 


WITH   ENGRAVINGS 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

HARPER    &   BROTHERS   PUBLISHERS 

1904 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  m  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  fifty-one,  by 

Hakper  &  Brothers, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


Copyright,  1879,  by  Jacob  Abbott, 


^   ^c:H»7rtHU> 


PREFACE. 


In  selecting  the  subjects  for  the  successive 
volumes  of  this  series  it  has  been  the  object  of 
the  author  to  look  for  the  names  of  those  great 
personages  whose  histories  constitute  use- 
ful, and  not  merely  entertaining,  knowledge. 
There  are  certain  names  which  are  familiar, 
as  names,  to  all  mankind ;  and  every  person 
who  seeks  for  any  degree  of  mental  cultiva- 
tion feels  desirous  of  informing  himself  of  the 
leading  outlines  of  their  history,  that  he  may 
know,  in  brief,  what  it  was  in  their  characters 
or  their  doings  which  has  given  them  so  wide- 
ly-extended a  fame.  This  knowledge,  which 
it  seems  incumbent  on  every  one  to  obtain  in 
respect  to  such  personages  as  Hannibal,  Alex- 
ander, Caesar,  Cleopatra,  Darius,  Xerxes,  Al- 
fred, William  the  Conqueror,  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, and  Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  it  is  the 
design  and  object  of  these  volumes  to  com- 
municate, in  a  faithful,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
if  possible,  in  an  attractive  manner.    Conse- 


viii  Preface. 

quently,  great  historical  names  alone  are  se- 
lected ;  and  it  has  been  the  writer's  aim  to 
present  the  prominent  and  leading  traits  in 
their  characters,  and  all  the  important  events 
in  their  lives,  in  a  bold  and  free  manner,  and 
yet  in  the  plain  and  simple  language  which  is 
80  obviously  required  in  works  which  aim  at 
permanent  and  practical  usefulness. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

I.  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  NILE 13 

n.  THE  PTOLEMIES 35 

III.  ALEXANDRIA :~. 61 

IV.  Cleopatra's    father 87 

V.    ACCESSION    TO    THE    THRONE 112 

VI.   CLEOPATRA   AND    C^SAR 132 

VII.    THE    ALEXANDRINE    WAR 157 

VIII.   CLEOPATRA    A    QUEEN 181 

IX.    THE    BATTLE    OFPHILIPPI 200 

X.    CLEOPATRA    AND    ANTONY 225 

XI.    THE    BATTLE    OP  ACTIUM 256 

XII.    THE    END   OP   CLEOPATRA 286 

V 


ENGRAVINGS. 


MAP,  SCENE  OF  cleopatra's  HISTORY FfOTitispiece. 

map,  the  rainless  region 21 

map,  the  delta  of  the  nile 29 

the  birth-day  present 50 

antony  crossing  the  desert 107 

•cleopatra  entering  the  palace  of  ciesar 135 

view  of  alexandria 162 

Cleopatra's   sister   in  the   triumphal  proces- 
sion    190 

-the  entertainments  at  tarsus 242 

THE    raising    of    ANTONY    TO    THE    UPPER    WINDOW 

OF   THE   TOMB 303 


CLEOPATRA. 

Chapter  I. 
The  Valley  of  the  Nile. 

The  parentage  and  birth  of  Cleopatn. 

rflHE  story  of  Cleopatra  is  a  story  of  crime. 
-■-  It  is  a  narrative  of  the  course  and  the  oon- 
eeqtiences  of  unlawful  love.  In  her  strange  and 
romantic  history  we  see  this  passion  portrayed 
with  the  most  complete  and  graphic  fidelity  in 
all  its  influences  and  effects ;  its  uncontrollable 
impulses,  its  intoxicating  joys,  its  reckless  and 
mad  career,  and  the  dreadful  remorse  and  ulti- 
mate despair  and  ruin  in  which  it  always  and 
inevitably  ends. 

Cleopatra  was  by  birth  an  Egyptian ;  by  f  d 
oestry  and  descent  she  was  a  Greek.     Th  a 
while  Alexandria  and  the  delta  of  the  Nile  fo  r 
ed  the  scene  of  the  most  important  events  and 
incidents  of  her  history,  it  was  the  blood  of 
Maoedon  which  flowed  in  her  veins.    Her  ohar- 
aoter  and  action  are  marked  by  the  genius,  the 


14  Cleopatra. 

OleoiMtn'i  reddflBM  in  K(ypt  Ttpkatl  m^mI  if  KcTP* 

•onrage,  the  originality,  and  the  impalsivenest 
pertaining  to  the  stook  from  which  she  sprung 
The  events  of  her  history,  on  the  other  hand, 
and  the  peculiar  character  of  her  adventures, 
her  sufferings,  and  her  sins,  were  determined  by 
the  circumstances  with  which  she  was  sur- 
rounded, and  the  influences  which  were  brought 
to  bear  upon  her  in  the  soft  and  voluptuoua 
clime  where  the  scenes  of  her  early  life  were 
laid. 

Egypt  has  always  been  considered  as  physio- 
ally  the  most  remarkable  country  on  the  globe. 
It  is  a  long  and  narrow  valley  of  verdure  and 
fruitfnlness,  completely  insulated  from  the  rest 
of  the  habitable  world.  It  is  more  completely 
insulated,  in  fact,  than  any  literal  island  could 
be,  inasmuch  as  deserts  are  more  impassable 
than  seas.  The  very  existence  of  Egypt  is  a 
most  extraordinary  phenomenon.  If  we  could 
but  soar  with  the  wings  of  an  eagle  into  the  air, 
and  look  down  upon  the  scene,  so  as  to  observe 
the  operation  of  that  grand  and  yet  simple  pro- 
oess  by  which  this  long  and  wonderfol  valley, 
teeming  so  profusely  with  animal  and  vegetable 
afe,  has  been  formed,  and  is  annually  revivified 
and  renewed,  in  the  midst  of  surrounding  wastes 
of  silence,  desolation,  and  death,  we  should  gaze 


Thb  Valley  op  the  Nile.         16 

Thfl  eagla'i  wtaigi  and  Mlaiioe. 

upon  it  with  never-ceasing  admiration  and  pleas- 
ure. We  have  not  the  wings  of  the  eagle,  but 
the  generalizations  of  soienoe  furnish  us  with 
a  sort  of  substitute  for  them.  The  long  series 
of  patient,  careful,  and  sagacious  observations, 
which  have  been  continued  now  for  two  thou- 
sand years,  bring  us  results,  by  means  of  which, 
through  our  powers  of  mental  conception,  we 
may  take  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  whole 
scene,  analogous,  in  some  respects,  to  that  which 
direct  and  actual  vision  would  afford  us,  if  we 
could  look  down  upon  it  from  the  eagle's  point 
of  view.  It  is,  however,  somewhat  humiliating 
to  our  pride  of  intellect  to  reflect  that  long-con- 
tinued philosophical  investigations  and  learned 
73  scientific  research  are,  in  such  a  case  as  this, 
v:  after  all,  in  some  sense,  only  a  sort  of  substitute 
^  for  wings.  A  human  mind  connected  with  a 
pair  of  eagle's  wings  would  have  solved  the  mys- 
tery of  Egypt  in  a  week ;  whereas  science,  phi- 
losophy, and  research,  confined  to  the  surface  of 
the  ground,  have  been  occupied  for  twenty  cen- 
turies in  accomplishing  the  undertaking. 

It  is  found  at  last  that  both  the  existence  of 
Egypt  itself,  and  its  strange  insulation  in  the 
midst  of  boundless  tracts  of  dry  and  barren  sand, 
Spend  npon  certam  remarKable  results  of  the 


16  Clbopatra. 

Phyrieal  iwctHwWm  rfEgypt  mmuMtai  with  tfa«  kwt  of  wta. 

genera,  laws  of  rain.  The  water  which  ia  taken 
np  by  the  atmosphere  from  the  surface  of  th« 
sea  and  of  the  land  by  evaporation,  falls  again, 
under  certain  circumstances,  in  showers  of  rain, 
the  frequency  and  copiousness  of  which  vary 
very  much  in  different  portions  of  the  earth. 
As  a  general  principle,  rains  are  much  more  fre- 
quent and  abundant  near  the  equator  than  in 
temperate  climes,  and  they  grow  less  and  less 
so  as  we  approach  the  poles.  This  might  nat^ 
urally  have  been  expected ;  for,  under  the  burn- 
ing sun  of  the  equator,  the  evaporation  of  water 
must  necessarily  go  on  with  immensely  greater 
rapidity  than  in  the  colder  zones,  and  all  the 
water  which  is  taken  up  must,  of  course,  again 
come  down. 

It  is  not,  however,  wholly  by  tha  latitude  of 
the  region  in  which  the  evaporation  takes  place 
that  the  quantity  of  rain  which  falls  from  the 
atmosphere  is  determined ;  for  the  condition  on 
which  the  falling  back,  in  rain,  of  the  water 
which  has  been  taken  up  by  evaporation  mainly 
depends,  is  the  cooling  of  the  atmospheric  stra- 
tum which  contains  it ;  and  this  effect  is  pro- 
duced in  very  various  ways,  and  many  different 
causes  operate  to  modify  it.  Sometimes  the 
«tratum  is  cooJ«d  by  being  wafted  over  ranges 


The  Valley  of  the  Nilb.         17 

a«iwral  lawi  of  rain. 

of  mountains ;  sometimes  by  encountering  and 
becoming  mingled  with  cooler  currents  of  air ; 
and  sometimes,  again,  by  being  driven  in  winds 
toward  a  higher,  and,  consequently,  cooler  lati- 
tude. If,  on  the  other  hand^  air  moves  from 
cold  mountains  toward  warm  and  sunny  plains, 
or  from  higher  latitudes  to  lower,  or  if,  among 
the  various  currents  into  which  it  falls,  it  be- 
comes  mixed  with  air  warmer  than  itself,  its 
capacity  for  containing  vapor  in  solution  is  in- 
creased, and,  consequently,  instead  of  releasing 
its  hold  upon  the  waters  which  it  has  already 
in  possession,  it  becomes  thirsty  for  more.  It 
moves  over  a  country,  under  these  circumstan- 
ces, as  a  warm  and  drying  wind.  Under  a  re- 
verse of  circumstances  it  would  have  formed 
drifting  mists,  or,  perhaps,  even  copious  showers 
of  rain. 

It  will  be  evident,  from  these  considerations, 
that  the  frequency  of  the  showers,  and  the  quan- 
tity of  the  rain  which  will  fall,  in  the  various 
regions  respectively  which  the  surface  of  the 
earth  presents,  must  depend  on  the  combined 
influence  of  many  causes,  such  as  the  warmth 
of  the  climate,  the  proximity  and  the  direction 
of  mountains  and  of  seas,  the  character  of  the 
prevailing  winds,  and  the  reflecting  qualities  of 
lft-2 


18  Cleopatra. 

Caoaet  whkh  modtf  j  die  quantity  of  rain. 

the  soil.  These  and  other  similar  causes,  it  u 
found,  do,  in  fact,  produce  a  vast  difference  in 
the  quantity  of  rain  which  falls  in  different  re- 
gions. In  the  northern  part  of  South  America, 
where  the  land  is  bordered  on  every  hand  by 
vast  tropical  seas,  which  load  the  hot  and  thirsty 
air  with  vapor,  and  where  the  mighty  Cordillera 
of  the  Andes  rears  its  icy  summits  to  chill  and 
precipitate  the  vapors  again,  a  quantity  of  rain 
amounting  to  more  than  ten  feet  in  perpendic- 
ular height  falls  in  a  year.  At  St.  Petersburg, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  quantity  thus  falling  in 
a  year  is  but  little  more  than  one  foot.  The 
immense  deluge  which  pours  down  from  the 
clouds  in  South  America  would,  if  the  water 
were  to  remain  where  it  fell,  wholly  submerge 
and  inundate  the  country.  As  it  is,  in  flowing 
off  through  the  valleys  to  the  sea,  the  united 
torrents  form  the  greatest  river  on  the  globe— 
the  Amazon  ;  and  the  vegetation,  stimulated  by 
the  heat,  and  nourished  by  the  abundant  and 
incrs.sant  supplies  of  moisture,  becomes  so  rank 
and  li>ads  the  earth  with  such  an  entangled  and 
matttHl  mass  of  trunks,  and  stems,  and  twining 
wreaths  and  vines,  that  man  is  almost  excluded 
from  the  scene.  The  boundless  forests  become 
a  vast  and  almost  impenetrable  jungle,  abaik* 


The  Vauby  of  the  Nile.         19 

SbUdag  contrasts.  RAinlew  regloB* 

doned  to  wild  beasts,  noxious  reptiles,  and  huge 
and  ferocious  birds  of  prey. 

Of  course,  the  district  of  St.  Petersburg,  with 
its  icy  winter,  its  low  and  powerless  sun,  and 
its  twelve  inches  of  annual  rain,  must  necessa- 
rily  present,  in  all  its  phenomena  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life,  a  striking  contrast  to  the  exu- 
berant prolificness  of  New  Grenada.  It  is,  how- 
ever, after  all,  not  absolutely  the  opposite  ex- 
treme. There  are  certain  regions  on  the  sui 
fiice  of  the  earth  that  are  actually  rainless ;  and 
it  is  these  which  present  us  with  the  true  and 
real  contrast  to  the  luxuriant  vegetation  and 
teeming  life  of  the  country  of  the  Amazon.  In 
these  rainless  regions  all  is  necessarily  silence, 
desolation,  and  death.  No  plant  can  grow ;  no 
animal  can  live.  Man,  too,  is  forever  and  hope- 
lessly excluded.  If  the  exuberant  abundance 
of  animal  and  vegetable  life  shut  him  out,  in 
some  measure,  from  regions  which  an  excess  of 
heat  and  moisture  render  too  prolific,  the  total 
absence  of  them  still  more  effectually  forbids  him 
a  home  in  these.  They  become,  therefore,  vast 
wastes  of  dry  and  barren  sands  in  which  no 
root  can  find  nourishment,  and  of  dreary  rooks 
to  which  not  even  a  lichen  can  cling. 

The  moot  extensive  and  remarkable  raWenf 


20  Cleopatra, 

Oreat  rainleH  region  of  Aiia  and  Afrtoa. 


region  on  the  earth  is  a  vast  tract  extending 
through  the  interior  and  northern  part  of  Af- 
rica, and  the  southwestern  part  of  Asia.  The 
Red  Sea  penetrates  into  this  tract  from  the 
south,  and  thus  breaks  the  outline  and  continu- 
'ty  of  its  form,  without,  however,  altering,  or 
essentially  modifying  its  character.  It  divides 
it,  however,  and  to  the  different  portions  which 
this  division  forms,  different  names  have  been 
given.  The  Asiatic  portion  is  called  Arabia 
Deserta;  the  African  tract  has  received  the 
name  of  Sahara^  while  between  those  two,  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Egypt,  the  barren  region  is 
called  simply  the  desert.  The  whole  tract  is 
marked,  however,  throughout,  with  one  all-per- 
vading character :  the  absence  of  vegetable,  and, 
consequently,  of  animal  life,  on  account  of  th? 
absence  of  rain.  The  rising  of  a  range  of  loftj 
mountains  in  the  center  of  it,  to  produce  a  pre 
oipitation  of  moisture  from  the  air,  would  prob- 
ably transform  the  whole  of  the  vast  waste  into 
as  verdant,  and  fertile,  and  populous  a  region 
an  any  on  the  globe. 

As  it  is,  there  are  no  such  mountains.  The 
whole  tract  is  nearly  level,  and  so  little  eleva- 
ted above  the  sea,  that,  at  the  distance  of  many 
hundred  mile*  in  the  interior,  the  land  rises  enl> 


Thb  Vallby  of  the  Nile 


21 


nuAaOm. 


Map  of  the  rainleM  ngloB 


to  the  height  of  a  few  hundred  feet  above  the 
surface  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  whereas  in  New 
Grenada,  at  less  than  one  hundred  miles  from 
the  sea,  the  chain  of  the  Andes  rises  to  eleva- 
tions of  from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  feet.  Such 
an  ascent  as  that  of  a  few  hundred  feet  in  hund- 
reds of  miles  would  be  wholly  imperceptible  to 
any  ordinary  mode  of  observation ;  and  the  great 
rainless  reorion,  accordingly,  of  Africa  and  Asia 


is,  as  it  a})pears  to  the  traveler,  one  vast  plain, 
a  thousand  miles  wide  and  five  thousand  miles 


33  Clbopatka. 

▼■tor  of^iM  NOa.  TtoRadSM 

long,  with  only  one  considerable  interruption  to 
the  dead  monotony  which  reigns,  with  that  ex- 
eeption,  every  where  over  the  immense  expanse 
of  silence  and  solitude.  The  single  interval  of 
fruitfulness  and  life  is  the  valley  of  the  Nile. 

There  are,  however,  in  fact,  three  interrup- 
tions to  the  continuity  of  this  plain,  though  only 
cne  of  them  constitutes  any  considerable  inter- 
ruption to  its  barrenness.  They  are  all  of  them 
valleys,  extending  from  north  to  south,  and  ly- 
ing side  by  side.  The  most  easterly  of  these 
valleys  is  so  deep  that  the  waters  of  the  ocean 
flow  into  it  from  the  south,  forming  a  long  and 
narrow  inlet  called  the  Red  Sea.  As  this  inlet 
communicates  freely  with  the  ocean,  it  is  al- 
ways nearly  of  the  same  level,  and  as  the  evap- 
oration from  it  is  not  sufficient  to  produce  rain, 
it  does  not  even  fertilize  its  own  shores.  Its 
presence  varies  the  dreary  scenery  of  the  land- 
scape, it  Ls  true,  by  giving  us  surging  waters  to 
look  upon  instead  of  driving  sands ;  but  this  is 
all.  With  the  exception  of  the  spectacle  of  an 
Rnglish  steamer  passing,  at  weary  intervals, 
ever  its  dreary  expanse,  and  some  raoldering  re- 
mains of  ancient  cities  on  its  eastern  shore,  it 
affords  scarcely  any  indications  of  life.  It  does 
▼cry  little,  therefore,  to  relieve  the  monotonous 


The  Valley  op  the  Nile.         2i5 

nieoaaes.  Omk. 

aspect  of  solitude  and  desolation  which  reigu 
over  the  region  into  which  it  has  intruded. 

The  most  westerly  of  the  three  valleys  to 
which  we  have  alluded  is  only  a  slight  depres- 
sion of  the  surface  of  the  land  marked  by  a  lin« 
of  oases.  The  depression  is  not  sufficient  to 
admit  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  nor  are 
there  any  rains  over  any  portion  of  the  valley 
which  it  forms  sufficient  to  make  it  the  bed  of 
a  stream.  Springs  issue,  however,  here  and 
there,  in  several  places,  from  the  ground,  and, 
percolating  through  the  sands  along  the  valley, 
give  fertility  to  little  dells,  long  and  narrow, 
which,  by  the  contrast  that  they  form  with  the 
surrounding  desolation,  seem  to  the  traveler  to 
possess  the  verdure  and  beauty  of  Paradise. 
There  is  a  line  of  these  oases  extending  along 
this  westerly  depression,  and  some  of  them  are 
of  considerable  extent.  The  oasis  of  Siweh,  on 
which  stood  the  far-famed  temple  of  Jupiter 
Ammon,  was  many  miles  in  extent,  and  was 
said  to  have  contained  in  ancient  times  a  popu- 
lation of  eight  thousand  souls.  Thus,  while  the 
most  easterly  of  the  three  valleys  which  we 
have  named  was  sunk  so  low  as  to  admit  the 
ocean  to  flow  freely  into  it,  the  most  westerly 
was  so  slightly  depressed  that  it  gained  only  a 


24  Clbcpafra. 

MonntalMoftheMooa  ThalUrflrin 

oiroumscribed  and  limited  fertility  throngh  tlU 
springs,  which,  in  the  lowest  portions  of  it,  oozed 
from  the  ground.  The  third  valley — the  oen- 
ta-al  one — remains  now  to  be  described. 

The  reader  will  observe,  by  referring  once 
more  to  the  map,  that  south  of  the  great  rain- 
less region  of  which  we  are  speaking,  there  lie 
groups  and  ranges  of  mountains  in  Abyssinia, 
called  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon.  These 
mountains  are  near  the  equator,  and  the  rela- 
tion which  they  sustain  to  the  surrounding  seas, 
and  to  currents  of  wind  which  blow  in  that  quar- 
ter of  the  world,  is  such,  that  they  bring  down 
from  the  atmosphere,  especially  in  certain  sea- 
sons  of  the  year,  vast  and  continual  torrents  Oi 
rain.  The  water  which  thus  falls  drenches  the 
mountain  sides  and  deluges  the  valleys.  There 
is  a  great  portion  of  it  which  can  not  flow  to 
the  southward  or  eastward  toward  the  sea,  aa 
the  whole  country  consists,  in  those  directions, 
of  continuous  tracts  of  elevated  land.  The  rush 
of  water  thus  turns  to  the  northward,  and,  press- 
ing on  across  the  desert  through  the  great  cen- 
tral valley  which  we  have  referred  to  above,  it 
finds  an  outlet,  at  last,  in  the  Mediterranean, 
at  a  point  two  thousand  miles  distant  from  the 
place  where  the  immense  condenser  drew  it 


The  Valley  of  the  Nile.         25 

incesBaat  i^na.  Inwidation  of  the  Nile 

from  the  skies  The  river  thus  created  is  the 
Nile.  It  is  formed,  in  a  word,  by  the  surplus 
waters  of  a  district  inundated  with  rains,  in  their 
progress  across  a  rainless  desert,  seeking  the  sea 
If  the  surplus  of  water  upon  the  Abyssinian 
mountains  had  been  constant  and  uniform,  the 
stream,  in  its  passage  across  the  desert,  would 
have  communicated  very  little  fertility  to  the 
barren  sands  which  it  traversed.  The  imme- 
diate banks  of  the  river  would  have,  perhaps, 
been  fringed  with  verdure,  but  the  influence  of 
the  irrigation  would  have  extended  no  further 
than  the  water  itself  could  have  reached,  by  per- 
colation through  the  sand.  But  the  flow  of  the 
water  is  not  thus  uniform  and  steady.  In  a 
certain  season  of  the  year  the  rains  are  inces- 
sant, and  they  descend  with  such  abundance 
and  profusion  as  almost  to  inundate  the  districts 
where  they  fall.  Immense  torrents  stream  down 
the  mountain  sides;  the  valleys  are  deluged; 
plains  turn  into  morasses,  and  morasses  into 
lakes.  In  a  word,  the  country  becomes  half 
submerged,  and  the  accumulated  mass  of  wa- 
ters wou.d  rush  with  great  force  and  violence 
down  the  central  valley  of  the  desert,  which 
forms  their  only  outlet,  if  the  passage  were  nar- 
row, and  if  it  made  any  considerable  descent  in 


26  Cleopatra. 

'CtmtmmtHmitrm.  8ab«idenoeorttM  i»alH» 


its  course  to  the  sea.  It  ia,  however,  not  nar- 
row, and  the  descent  is  very  small.  The  de- 
pression in  the  surface  of  the  desert,  through 
which  the  water  flows,  is  from  five  to  ten  miiee 
wide,  and,  though  it  is  nearly  two  thousand 
miles  from  the  rainy  district  across  the  desert 
to  the  sea,  the  country  for  the  whole  distance 
is  almost  level.  There  is  only  sufficient  de- 
Boent,  especially  for  the  last  thousand  miles,  to 
determine  a  very  gentle  current  to  the  north- 
ward in  the  waters  of  the  stream. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  immense 
quantity  of  water  which  falls  in  the  rainy  dis- 
trict in  these  inundating  tropical  showers,  ex- 
pands over  the  whole  valley,  and  forms  for  a 
time  an  immense  lake,  extending  in  length 
across  the  whole  breadth  of  the  desert.  This 
lake  is,  of  course,  from  five  to  ten  miles  wide, 
and  a  thousand  miles  long.  The  water  in  it  is 
shallow  and  turbid,  and  it  has  a  gentle  current 
toward  the  north.  The  rains,  at  length,  in  a 
great  measure  cease ;  but  it  requires  some 
months  for  the  water  to  run  off  and  leave  the 
valley  dry.  As  soon  as  it  is  gone,  there  springs 
up  from  the  whole  surface  of  the  ground  which 
has  been  thus  submerged  a  most  rank  and  lux- 
uriant vegetation. 


Thb  Vallkv  of  the  Nile.         27 

Lczwijutt  Tegfstatio&.  '  Absence  of  foraabi. 

This  vegetation,  now  wholly  regulated  and 
controlled  by  the  hand  of  man,  must  have  been, 
in  its  original  and  primeval  state,  of  a  very  pe- 
Quliar  character.  It  must  have  consisted  of 
Buoh  plants  only  as  could  exist  under  the  condi- 
tion of  having  the  soil  in  which  they  grew  laid, 
for  a  quarter  of  the  year,  wholly  under  water. 
This  circumstance,  probably,  prevented  the  val- 
ley of  the  Nile  from  having  been,  like  other  fer- 
tile tracts  of  land,  encumbered,  in  its  native 
state,  with  forests.  For  the  same  reason,  wild 
beasts  could  never  have  haunted  it.  There  were 
no  forests  to  shelter  them,  and  no  refuge  or  re- 
treat for  them  but  the  dry  and  barren  desert, 
daring  the  period  of  the  annual  inundations. 
This  most  extraordinary  valley  seems  thus  to 
have  been  formed  and  preserved  by  Nature  her- 
self for  the  special  possession  of  man.  She  her- 
self seems  to  have  held  it  in  reserve  for  him  from 
the  very  morning  of  creation,  refusing  admis- 
sion into  it  to  every  plant  and  every  animal  that 
might  hinder  or  disturb  his  occupancy  and  con- 
trol. And  if  he  were  to  abandon  it  now  for  a 
thousand  years,  and  then  return  to  it  once  more, 
he  would  find  it  just  as  he  left  it,  ready  for  his 
immediate  possession.  There  would  be  no  wild 
beasts  that  he  must  first  expel,  and  no  tangW 


38  Clbopatka. 

Onati  ■■ttqy^ynf  ggypt  BarmoniMOBlK 

forests  would  havo  sprung  up,  that  his  ax  Inus^ 
first  remove.  Nature  is  the  husbandman  who 
keeps  this  garden  of  the  world  in  order,  and  the 
means  and  machinery  by  which  she  operates 
aie  the  grand  evaporating  surfaces  of  the  seas, 
the  beams  of  the  tropical  sun,  the  lofty  summits 
of  the  Abyssinian  mountains,  and,  as  the  prod- 
act  and  result  of  all  this  instrumentality,  great 
periodical  inundations  of  summer  rain. 

For  these  or  some  other  rcEisons  Egypt  has 
been  occupied  by  man  from  the  most  remote  an- 
tiquity. The  oldest  records  of  the  human  race, 
made  three  thousand  years  ago,  speak  of  Egypt 
as  ancient  then,  when  they  were  written.  Not 
only  is  Tradition  silent,  but  even  Fable  herself 
does  not  attempt  to  tell  the  story  of  the  origin 
of  her  population.  Here  stand  the  oldest  and 
most  enduring  monuments  that  human  power 
has  ever  been  able  to  raise.  It  is,  however, 
somewhat  humiliating  to  the  pride  of  the  race 
to  reflect  that  the  loftiest  and  proudest,  as  well 
as  the  most  permanent  and  stable  of  all  the 
works  which  man  has  ever  accomplished,  are 
but  the  incidents  and  adjuncts  of  a  thin  stra- 
tum of  alluvial  fertility,  left  upon  the  sands  by 
the  subsiding  waters  of  summer  showers. 

The  most  important  portion  of  the  alluvion 


The  Valley  of  the  Nile. 


^ 


Tb«  Delta  of  the  Nila. 


Map 


of  the  Nile  is  the  northern  portion,  where  the 
valJey  widens  and  opens  toward  the  sea,  form- 
ing a  triangular  plain  of  about  one  hundred 
miles  in  length  on  each  of  the  sides,  over  which 
the  waters  of  the  river  flow  in  a  great  number 
ef  separate  creeks  and  channels.  The  whole 
area  forms  a  vast  meadow,  intersected  every- 
where with  slow-flowing  streams  of  water,  and 
presenting  on  its  surface  the  most  enchanting 
pictures  of  fertility,  abundance,  and  beauty 
This  region  is  called  the  Delta  of  the  Nile 


30  Cleopatra. 

The  Delttk  w  aeen  from  the  Ma. 

The  sea  upon  th^  coast  is  shallow,  and  the  fer- 
tile country  formed  by  the  deposits  of  the  river 
seems  to  have  projected  somewhat  beyond  the 
line  of  the  coast ;  although,  as  the  land  has  not 
advanced  perceptibly  for  the  last  eighteen  hund- 
red years,  it  may  be  somewhat  doubtful  wheth- 
er the  whole  of  the  apparent  protrusion  is  not 
due  to  the  natural  conformation  of  the  coast, 
rather  than  to  any  changes  made  by  the  action 
of  the  river. 

The  Delta  of  the  Nile  is  so  level  itself,  and  so 
little  raised  above  the  level  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, that  the  land  seems  almost  a  continuation 
of  the  same  surface  with  the  sea,  only,  instead 
of  blue  waters  topped  with  white-crested  waves, 
we  have  broad  tracts  of  waving  grain,  and  gen- 
tle swells  of  land  crowned  with  hamlets  and 
villages.  In  approaching  the  coast,  the  navi- 
gator  has  no  distant  view  of  all  this  verdure  and 
beauty.  It  lies  so  low  that  it  continues  be- 
neath  the  horizon  until  the  ship  is  close  upon 
the  shore.  The  first  landmarks,  in  fact,  which 
the  seaman  makes,  are  the  tops  of  trees  grow- 
ing apparently  out  of  the  water,  or  the  sum- 
mit of  an  obelisk,  or  the  capital  of  a  pillar, 
marking  the  site  of  some  ancient  and  dilapida- 
ted oity. 


The  Valley  of  the  Nile.         31 

fBlwi«e  mnuth  of  the  Nile.  The  CaiiopK  mouth 

The  most  easterly  of  the  channels  by  which 
the  waters  of  the  river  find  their  way  through 
the  Delta  to  the  sea,  is  called,  as  it  will  be  seen 
marked  upon  the  map,  the  Pelusiao  branch.  It 
forms  almost  the  boundary  of  the  fertile  region 
of  the  Delta  on  the  eastern  side.  There  was  an 
ancient  city  named  Pelusium  near  the  mouth 
of  it.  This  was,  of  course,  the  first  Egyptian 
city  reached  by  those  who  arrived  by  land  from 
the  eastward,  traveling  along  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  Sea.  On  account  of  its  thus 
marking  the  eastern  frontier  of  the  country,  it 
became  a  point  of  great  importance,  and  is  often 
mentioned  in  the  histories  of  ancient  times. 

The  westernmost  mouth  of  the  Nile,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  called  the  Canopio  mouth.  The 
distance  along  the  coast  from  the  Canopic  mouth 
to  Pelusium  was  about  a  hundred  miles.  The 
outline  of  the  coast  was  formerly,  as  it  still  con 
tinues  to  be,  very  irregular,  and  the  water  shal- 
low  Extended  banks  of  sand  protruded  into 
the  sea,  and  the  sea  itself,  as  if  in  retaliation, 
formed  innumerable  creeks,  and  inlets,  and  la^ 
goons  in  the  land.  Along  this  irregular  and  un- 
eertain  boundary  the  waters  of  the  Nile  and  the 
surges  of  the  Mediterranean  kept  up  an  eternal 
war,  with  energies  so  nearly  equal,  that  now, 


32  Cleopatra. 

AneioDt  Egypt  Tne  Pyramlda 

after  the  lapse  of  eighteen  hundred  years  sinc« 
the  state  of  the  contest  began  to  be  recorded, 
neither  side  has  been  found  to  have  gained  any 
perceptible  advantage  over  the  other.  The  river 
brings  the  sands  down,  and  the  sea  drives  them 
incessantly  back,  keeping  the  whole  line  of  the 
shore  in  such  a  condition  as  to  make  it  extreme- 
ly dangerous  and  difficult  of  access  to  man. 

It  will  be  obvious,  from  this  description  of  the 
valley  of  the  Nile,  that  it  formed  a  country  which 
was  in  ancient  times  isolated  and  secluded,  in 
a  very  striking  manner,  from  all  the  rest  of  the 
world.  It  was  wholly  shut  in  by  deserts,  on 
every  side,  by  land ;  and  the  shoals,  and  sand- 
bars, and  other  dangers  of  navigation  which 
marked  the  line  of  the  coast,  seemed  to  forbid 
approach  by  sea.  Here  it  remained  for  many 
ages,  under  the  rule  of  its  own  native  ancient 
kings.  Its  population  was  peaceful  and  indus- 
trious. Its  scholars  were  famed  throughout  the 
world  for  theii  learning,  their  science,  and  their 
vhLosophy.  It  was  in  these  ages,  before  othe*' 
nations  had  intruded  upon  its  peaceful  seolu- 
eion,  that  the  Pyramids  were  built,  and  the 
enormous  monoliths  carved,  and  those  vast  tem- 
ples reared  whose  ruined  columns  are  now  the 
wonder  of  mankind.    During  these  remote  ages. 


B.C.323.J  The  Vallev  of  the  Nile.    33 

ConquesU  of  the  Peraians  and  Macedoniana.  He  Ptolemiea 

too,  Egypt  was,  as  now,  the  land  of  perpetual 
fertility  and  abundance.  There  would  always 
bo  corn  in  Egypt,  wherever  else  famine  might 
rage.  The  neighboring  nations  and  tribes  in 
Arabia,  Palestine,  and  Syria,  found  their  way 
to  it,  accordingly,  across  the  deserts  on  the  east- 
ern side,  when  driven  by  want,  and  thus  opened 
a  way  of  communication.  At  length  the  Per- 
sian monarchs,  after  extending  their  empire 
westward  to  the  Mediterranean,  found  access 
by  the  same  road  to  Pelusium,  and  thence  over- 
ran and  conquered  the  country.  At  last,  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  the  time  of 
Cleopatra,  Alexander  the  Great,  when  he  sub- 
verted the  Persian  empire,  took  possession  of 
Egypt,  and  annexed  it,  among  the  other  Per- 
sian provinces,  to  his  own  dominions.  At  tha 
division  of  Alexander's  empire,  after  his  death, 
Egypt  fell  to  one  of  his  generals,  named  Ptol- 
emy. Ptolemy  made  it  his  kingdom,  and  left 
it,  at  his  death,  to  his  heirs.  A  long  line  of  sov- 
ereigns succeeded  him,  known  in  history  as  the 
dynasty  of  the  Ptolemies — Greek  princes,  reign- 
ing over  an  Egyptian  realm.  Cleopatra  was 
che  daughter  of  the  eleventh  in  the  line. 

The  capital  of  the  Ptolemies  was  Alexandria 
Until  the  time  of  Alexander's  conquest,  Egypt 

16—2 


84  Cleopatea.  [B.C.  323 

Founding  of  Alexandria.  The  Pbanw. 

had  no  sea-port.  There  were  several  landing- 
places  along  the  coast,  but  no  proper  harbor. 
In  fact  Egypt  had  then  so  little  commercial  in- 
tercourse with  the  rest  of  the  world,  that  she 
scarcely  needed  any.  Alexander's  engineers, 
however,  in  exploring  the  shore,  found  a  point 
not  far  from  the  Canopic  mouth  of  the  Nile 
where  the  water  was  deep,  and  where  there  was 
an  anchorage  ground  protected  by  an  island. 
Alexander  founded  a  city  there,which  he  called 
by  his  own  name.  He  perfected  the  harbor  by 
artificial  excavations  and  embankments.  A 
lofty  light-house  was  reared,  which  formed  a 
landmark  by  day,  and  exhibited  a  blazing  star 
by  night  to  guide  the  galleys  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean in.  A  canal  was  made  to  connect  the  port 
with  the  Nile,  and  warehouses  were  erected  tc 
contain  the  stores  of  merchandise.  In  a  word, 
Alexandria  became  at  once  a  great  commercial 
capital.  It  was  the  seat,  for  several  centuries, 
of  the  magnificent  government  of  the  Ptolemies ; 
and  so  well  was  its  situation  chosen  for  the  pur- 
poses Intended,  that  it  still  continues,  after  the 
lapse  of  twenty  centuries  of  revolution  and 
change,  one  of  the  principal  emporiums  of  tha 
eoiameroe  of  the  East. 


B.C.35a]      The  Ptolemies.  86 

nM^jraaaQrof  flMPtolemlM.  toftmiidw 


Chapter  II. 

The  Ptolemies. 

fllHE  founder  of  the  dynasty  of  the  Ptole- 
-■-  mies — ^the  ruler  into  whose  hands  the  king- 
dom  of  Egypt  fell,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
at  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great — was  a 
Macedonian  general  in  Alexander's  army.  The 
circumstances  of  his  birth,  and  the  events  which 
led  to  his  entering  into  the  service  of  Alexander, 
were  somewhat  peculiar.  His  mother,  whose 
name  was  Arsinoe,  was  a  personal  favorite  and 
companion  of  Philip,  king  of  Macedon,  the  fa- 
ther of  Alexander.  Philip  at  length  gave  Arsi- 
noe in  marriage  to  a  certain  man  of  his  court 
named  Lagus.  A  very  short  time  after  the 
marriage,  Ptolemy  was  born.  Philip  treated 
the  child  with  the  same  consideration  and  favor 
that  he  had  evinced  toward  the  mother.  The 
boy  was  called  the  son  of  Lagus,  but  his  posi- 
tion ir  the  royal  court  of  Macedon  was  as  high 
and  honorable,  and  the  attentions  which  he  re* 
oeived  were  as  great,  as  he  could  have  expected 
to  enjoy  if  he  had  been  in  reaUty  a  son  of  the 


36  CLEOPATaA-  [B.C.  358 

PUlip  of  Maoedon.  Alexandoa 

king.    As  he  grew  up,  he  attained  to  official  sta- 
tions of  considerable  responsibility  and  power. 

In  the  course  of  time,  a  certain  transaction 
occurred,  by  means  of  which  Ptolemy  involved 
himself  in  serious  difficulty  with  Philip,  though 
by  the  same  means  he  made  Alexander  very 
strongly  his  friend.  -  There  was  a  province  of 
the  Persian  empire  called  Caria,  situated  in  the 
southwestern  part  of  Asia  Minor.  The  govern- 
or of  this  province  had  offered  his  daughter  -> 
Philip  as  the  wife  of  one  of  his  sons  named 
AridsBUs,  the  half  brother  of  Alexander.  Alex- 
ander's mother,  who  was  not  the  mother  of  Ari- 
dseus,  was  jealous  of  this  proposed  marriaga 
She  thought  that  it  was  part  of  a  scheme  for 
bringing  Aridaeus  forward  into  public  notice,  and 
finally  making  him  the  heir  to  Philip's  throne ; 
whereas  she  was  very  earnest  that  tiiis  splendid 
inheritance  should  be  reserved  for  her  own  son. 
Accordingly,  she  proposed  to  Alexander  that 
they  should  send  a  secret  embassage  to  the 
Persian  governor,  and  represent  to  him  that  it 
would  be  much  better,  both  for  him  and  for  hi* 
daughter,  that  she  should  have  Alexander  in- 
steEid  of  Aridseus  for  a  husband,  and  induce 
him,  if  possible,  to  demand  of  Philip  that  ha 
ihould  make  the  change. 


B.C. 336.]       The  Ptolemies.  87 

Tke  intrigue  dlBoorered.  Ptolemy  baniched. 

Alexander  entered  readily  into  this  scheme, 
and  various  courtiers,  Ptolemy  among  the  rest, 
undertook  to  aid  him  in  the  accomplishment  of 
it.  The  embassy  was  sent.  The  governor  of 
Caria  was  very  much  pleased  with  the  change 
which  they  proposed  to  him.  In  fact,  the  whole 
plan  seemed  to  be  going  on  very  successfully 
toward  its  accomplishment,  when,  by  some 
means  or  other,  Philip  discovered  the  intrigue. 
He  went  immediately  into  Alexander's  apart- 
ment, highly  excited  with  resentment  and  an- 
ger. He  had  never  intended  to  make  AridsBUS, 
whose  birth  on  the  mother's  side  was  obscure 
and  ignoble,  the  heir  to  his  throne,  and  he  re- 
proached Alexander  in  the  bitterest  terms  for 
being  of  so  debased  and  degenerate  a  spirit  as 
to  desire  to  marry  the  daughter  of  a  Persian 
governor;  a  man  who  was,  in  fact,  the  mere 
■lave,  as  he  said,  of  a  barbarian  king. 

Alexander's  scheme  was  thus  totally  defeat- 
ed ;  and  so  displeased  was  his  father  with  the 
officers  who  had  undertaken  to  aid  him  in  the 
execution  of  it,  that  he  banished  them  all  from 
the  kingdom.  Ptolemy,  in  consequence  of  thia 
decree,  wandered  about  an  exile  from  his  coun- 
try for  some  years,  until  at  length  the  death  of 
Philip  enabled  Alexander  to  recall  him.    Alex- 


38  Cleopatea.  [B.C.  336 

Accession  of  Alexander.  Ptolemy's  elevation. 

andor  sucoeeded  his  father  as  King  of  Maoedont 
and  immediately  made  Ptolemy  one  of  his  prin- 
cipal generals.  Ptolemy  rose,  in  fact,  to  a  very 
high  command  in  the  Macedonian  army,  and 
distinguished  himself  very  greatly  in  all  the 
celebrated  conqueror's  subsequent  campaigns. 
In  the  Persian  invasion,  Ptolemy  commanded 
one  of  the  three  grand  divisions  of  the  army, 
and  he  rendered  repeatedly  the  most  signal 
services  to  the  cause  of  his  master  He  was 
employed  on  the  most  distant  and  dangerous 
enterprises,  and  was  often  intrusted  with  the 
management  of  affairs  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance. He  was  very  successful  in  all  his  under- 
takings. He  conquered  armies,  reduced  fort- 
resses, negotiated  treaties,  and  evinced,  in  a 
word,  the  highest  degree  of  military  energy 
and  skilL  He  once  saved  Alexander's  life  by 
discovering  and  revealing  a  dangerous  conspir- 
acy which  had  been  formed  against  the  king. 
Alexander  had  the  opportunity  to  requite  this 
favor,  through  a  divine  interposition  vouchsafed 
to  him,  it  was  said,  for  the  express  purpose  of 
enabling  him  to  evince  his  gratitude.  Ptolemy 
had  been  wounded  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  and 
when  all  the  remedies  and  antidotes  of  the 
physicians  had  failed,  and  the  patient  was  ap 


B.C. 323.]      The  Ptolemies.  39 

Death  of  Alexander.  Ptolemy  becomes  King  of  Egypt. 

parently  about  to  die,  an  efEectual  means  of 
cure  was  revealed  to  Alexander  in  a  dream, 
and  Ptolemy,  in  his  turn,  was  saved. 

At  the  ^reat  rejoicings  at  Susa,  when  Alex- 
ander's conquests  were  completed,  Ptolemy  was 
honored  with  a  golden  crown,  and  he  was  mar- 
ried, with  great  pomp  and  ceremony,  to  Arta- 
cama,  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished Persian  generals. 

At  length  Alexander  died  suddenly,  after  & 
night  of  drinking  and  carousal  at  Babylon.  He 
had  no  son  old  enough  to  succeed  him,  and  hia 
immense  empire  was  divided  among  his  gener- 
als. Ptolemy  obtained  Egypt  for  his  share.  He 
repaired  immediately  to  Alexandria,  with  a 
great  army,  and  a  great  number  of  Greek  at- 
tendants and  followers,  and  there  commenced  a 
reign  which  continued,  in  great  prosperity  and 
splendor,  for  forty  years.  The  native  Egyp- 
tians were  reduced,  of  course,  to  subjection  and 
bondage.  All  the  oiSices  in  the  army,  and  ali 
stations  of  trust  and  responsibility  in  civil  life, 
were  filled  by  Greeks.  Alexandria  was  a  Greek 
city,  and  it  became  at  once  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant  commercial  centers  in  all  those  seas. 
Greek  and  Roman  travelers  found  now  a  lan- 
guage spoken  in  Egypt  which  they  could  nn* 


40  Cleopatra.  | B.C.  323. 

Oharacter  of  Ptolemy'a  reign.  The  Alezaadrtui  library 

derstand,  and  philosophers  and  scholars  could 
gratify  the  curiosity  which  they  had  so  long 
felt,  in  respect  to  the  institutions,  and  monu- 
ments, and  wonderful  physical  characteristiot 
of  the  country,  with  safety  and  pleasure.  In  a 
word,  the  organization  of  a  Greek  government 
over  the  ancient  kingdom,  and  the  establishment 
of  the  great  commercial  relations  of  the  city  of 
Alexandria,  conspired  to  bring  Egypt  out  from 
its  concealment  and  seclusion,  and  to  open  it  in 
some  measure  to  the  intercourse,  as  well  as  to 
bring  it  more  fully  under  the  observation,  of 
the  rest  of  mankind. 

Ptolemy,  in  fact,  made  it  a  special  object  of 
his  policy  to  accomplish  these  ends.  He  invit- 
ed Greek  scholars,  philosophers,  poets,  and  art- 
ists, in  great  numbers,  to  come  to  Alexandria, 
and  to  make  his  capital  thoir  abode.  He  col- 
lected an  immense  library,  which  subsequently, 
under  the  name  of  the  Alexandrian  library,  be- 
came one  of  the  most  celebrated  collections  of 
books  and  manuscripts  th"*  was  ever  made. 
We  shall  have  occasion  to  rafer  more  particu- 
larly to  this  library  in  the  next  chapter. 

Besides  prosecuting  these  splendid  schemot 
for  the  aggrandizement  of  Egypt,  King  Ptole- 
my was  engaged,  during  p''"'^«rt  the  whole  p©- 


B.C.  283.J      The    Ptolemies.  4i 

AbdlcatloB  of  Ptolemy.  Ptolemj  PhQadelphua 

riod  of  his  reign,  in  waging  incessant  wars  with 
the  surrounding  nations.  He  engaged  in  these 
wars,  in  part,  for  the  purpose  of  extending  the 
boundaries  of  his  empire,  and  in  part  for  self- 
defense  against  the  aggressions  and  encroach- 
ments of  other  powers.  He  finally  succeeded 
in  establishing  his  kingdom  on  the  most  stable 
and  permanent  basis,  and  then,  when  he  was 
drawing  toward  the  close  of  his  life,  being  in 
fact  over  eighty  years  of  age,  he  abdicated  hia 
throne  in  favor  of  his  youngest  son,  whose  name 
was  also  Ptolemy.  Ptolemy  the  father,  the 
founder  of  the  dynasty,  is  known  commonly  in 
history  by  the  name  of  Ptolemy  Soter.  His 
son  is  called  Ptolemy  Philadelphus.  This  son 
though  the  youngest,  was  preferred  to  his  broth 
ers  as  heir  to  the  throne  on  account  of  his  being 
the  son  of  the  most  favored  and  beloved  of  the 
monarch's  wives.  The  determination  of  Soter 
to  abdicate  the  throne  himself  arose  from  his 
wish  to  put  this  favorite  son  in  secure  possession 
of  it  before  his  death,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
older  brothers  from  disputing  the  succession. 
The  coronation  of  Philadelphus  was  made  one 
of  the  most  magnificent  and  imposing  ceremo- 
nies that  royal  pomp  and  parade  ever  arranged 
Two  years  afterward  Ptolemy  the  father  died, 


43  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  283 

OmIIi  of  Ptolamy.  8abaeq«ent  degeneracy  of  the  Ptolemies 

and  was  buried  by  his  son  with  a  magniRcenoe 
almost  equal  to  that  of  his  own  coronation.  His 
body  was  deposited  in  a  splendid  mausoleum, 
^hich  had  been  built  for  the  remains  of  Alex- 
ander ;  and  so  high  was  the  veneration  which 
was  felt  by  mankind  for  the  greatness  of  his  ex- 
ploits and  the  splendor  of  his  reign,  that  divine 
honors  were  paid  to  his  memory.  Such  was 
the  origin  of  the  great  dynasty  of  the  Ptolemies. 
Some  of  the  early  sovereigns  of  the  line  fol 
lowed  in  some  degree  the  honorable  example  set 
them  by  the  distinguished  founder  of  it;  but 
this  example  was  soon  lost,  and  was  succeeded 
by  the  most  extreme  degeneracy  and  debase- 
ment. The  successive  sovereigns  began  soon 
to  live  and  to  reign  solely  for  the  gratification 
of  their  own  sensual  propensities  and  passions. 
Sensuality  begins  sometimes  with  kindness,  but 
it  ends  always  in  the  most  reckless  and  intoler- 
able cruelty.  The  Ptolemies  became,  iu  the 
end,  the  most  abominable  and  terrible  tyrants 
that  the  principle  of  absolute  and  irresponsible 
power  ever  produced.  There  was  one  vice  in 
particular,  a  vice  which  they  seem  to  have 
adopted  from  the  Asiatic  nations  of  the  Persian 
empire,  that  resulted  in  the  most  awful  oonse 
qaences.     Thi«  vioe  vrtif  tnpest. 


B.C.  170.]       The  Pt,olemies.  43 

Incestuouf  inarringM  of  the  Ptolemy  family. 

The  law  of  God,  proclaimed  not  only  in  tho 
Scriptures,  but  in  the  native  instincts  of  the  hu- 
man soul,  forbids  intermarriages  among  those 
connected  by  close  ties  ot  consanguinity.  The 
necessity  for  such  a  law  rests  on  considerations 
which  can  not  here  be  fully  explained.  They 
are  >  considerations,  however,"  which  arise  from 
causes  inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  man  as  a 
social  being,  and  which  are  of  universal,  per- 
petual, and  insurmountable  force.  To  guard 
his  creatures  against  the  deplorable  consequen 
ces,  both  physical  and  moral,  which  result  from 
the  practice  of  such  marriages,  the  great  Au- 
thor of  Nature  has  implanted  in  every  mind 
an  instinctive  sense  of  their  criminality,  pow- 
erful enough  to  give  effectual  warning  of  the 
danger,  and  so  universal  as  to  cause  a  distinct 
condemnation  of  them  to  be  recorded  in  almost 
every  code  of  written  law  that  has  ever  been 
promulgated  among  mankind.  The  Persian 
sovereigns  were,  however,  above  all  law,  and 
every  species  of  incestuous  marriage  was  prac- 
tice':' by  them  without  shame.  The  Ptolemies 
foLowed  their  example. 

One  of  the  most  striking  exhibitions  of  the 
nature  of  incestuous  domestic  life  which  is  af- 
forded by  the  whole  dismal  panorama  of  pagan 


44  Cleopatra  [B.C.  170 

Plol— y  FbfMOB.  Origin  of  fala  n«in«> 

vice  and  crime,  is  presented  in  the  history  of 
the  great-grandfather  of  the  Cleopatra  who  is 
the  principal  subject  of  this  narrative.  He  was 
Ptolemy  Physoon,  the  seventh  in  the  line.  It 
it  is  necessary  to  give  some  particulars  of  his 
history  and  that  of  his  family,  in  order  to  ex- 
plain the  circumstances  under  which  Cleopatra 
herself  came  upon  the  stage.  The  name  Phys- 
oon, which  afterward  became  his  historical  des- 
ignation, was  originally  given  him  in  contempt 
and  derision.  He  was  very  small  of  stature  in 
respect  to  height,  but  his  gluttony  and  sensual- 
ity had  made  him  immensely  corpulent  in  body, 
so  that  he  looked  more  like  a  monster  than  a 
man.  The  term  Physcon  was  a  Greek  word, 
which  denoted  opprobiously  the  ridiculous  fig- 
ure that  he  made. 

The  circumstances  of  Ptolemy  Physoon's  ac- 
oession  to  the  throne  afford  not  only  a  striking 
illustration  of  his  character,  but  a  very  faithful 
though  terrible  picture  of  the  manners  and  mor- 
als of  the  times.  He  had  been  engaged  in  a 
long  and  cruel  war  with  his  brother,  who  was 
king  before  him,  in  which  war  he  had  perpe- 
trated  all  imaginable  atrocities,  when  at  length 
his  brother  died,  leaving  as  his  survivors  his 
wife,  who  was  also  his  sister,  and  a  son  wh» 


B.C.  170.J       The  Ptolemies.  45 

CIreTmiitancef  of  Phyacon'a  acceMion.  Cleopatra 

was  yet  a  child.  This  son  was  properly  the 
heir  to  the  crown.  Physoon  himself,  being  ^ 
brother,  had  no  claim,  as  against  a  son.  The 
name  of  the  queen  was  Cleopatra.  This  was, 
in  fact,  a  very  common  name  among  the  prin- 
cesses of  the  Ptolemaic  line.  Cleopatra,  be- 
sides her  son,  had  a  daughter,  who  was  at  this 
time  a  young  and  beautiful  girl.  Her  name 
was  also  Cleopatra.  She  was,  of  course,  the 
niece,  as  her  mother  was  the  sister,  of  Physcon. 
The  plan  of  Cleopatra  the  mother,  after  her 
husband's  death,  was  to  make  her  son  the  king 
of  Egypt,  and  to  govern  herself,  as  regent,  un- 
til he  should  become  of  age.  The  friends  and 
adherents  of  Physcon,  however,  formed  a  strong 
party  in  his  favor.  They  sent  for  him  to  come 
to  Alexandria  to  assert  his  claims  to  the  throne. 
He  came,  and  a  new  civil  war  was  on  the  point 
of  breaking  out  between  the  brother  and  sister, 
when  at  length  the  dispute  was  settled  by  a 
treaty,  in  which  it  was  stipulated  that  Phys- 
c»n  should  marry  Cleopatra,  and  be  king;  but 
that  he  should  make  the  son  of  Cleopatra  by 
her  former  husband  his  heir.  This  treaty  was 
oanied  into  effect  so  far  as  the  celebration  of 
the  marriage  with  the  mother  was  concerned, 
■ad  the   establishment  of  Physcon  upon  the 


46  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  170 

Phjieoii'*  brntal  perfidy  Be  manie*  his  wife's  danghtw 

throne.  But  the  perfidious  mcoster,  instead  of 
keeping  his  faith  in  respect  to  the  boy,  determ 
ined  to  murder  him;  and  so  open  and  brutai 
were  his  habits  of  violence  and  cruelty,  that  he 
undertook  to  perpetrate  the  deed  himself,  in 
open  day.  The  boy  fled  shrieking  to  the  moth- 
er's arms  for  proteqtion,  and  Physcon  stabbed 
and  killed  him  there,  exhibiting  the  spectacle 
■  of  a  newly-married  husband  murdering  the  son 
of  his  wife  in  her  very  arms ! 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  what  sort  of  affection 
would  exist  between  a  husband  and  a  wife  after 
such  transactions  as  these.  In  fact,  there  had 
been  no  love  between  them  from  the  beginning 
The  marriage  had  been  solely  a  political  arrange- 
ment. Physcon  hated  his  wife,  and  had  mur- 
dered her  son,  and  then,  as  if  to  complete  the 
exhibition  of  the  brutal  lawlessness  and  capri- 
oiousness  of  his  passions,  he  ended  with  falling 
in  love  with  her  daughter.  The  beautiful  girl 
looked  upon  this  heartless  monster,  as  ugly  and 
deformed  in  body  as  he  was  in  mind,  with  ab- 
solute horror.  But  she  was  wholly  in  his  power. 
He  compelled  her,  by  violence,  to  submit  to  hit 
will.  He  repudiated  the  mother,  and  forced 
the  daughter  to  beoome  his  wife. 

Physoon  diaplayed  the  same  qualities  of  bm 


B.C.  170.J       The  Ptolemies.  47 


AtrocitleB  of  Physcon.  His  fllgfat 

tal  tyranny  and  cruelty  in  the  treatment  of  hia 
subjects  that  he  manifested  in  his  own  domestic 
relations.  The  particulars  we  can  not  here  give^ 
but  can  only  say  that  his  atrocities  became  at 
length  absolutely  intolerable,  and  a  revolt  so 
formidable  broke  out,  that  he  fled  from  the 
country.  In  fact,  he  barely  escaped  with  his 
life,  as  the  mob  had  surrounded  the  palace  and 
were  setting  it  on  fire,  intending  to  burn  the 
tyrant  himself  and  all  the  accomplices  of  his 
crimes  together.  Physcon,  however,  contrivei 
to  make  his  escape.  He  fled  to  the  island  of 
Cyprus,  taking  with  him  a  certain  beautifu 
boy,  his  son  by  the  Cleopatra  whom  he  had  di- 
vorced ;  for  they  had  been  married  long  enough, 
before  the  divorce,  to  have  a  son.  The  name 
of  this  boy  was  Memphitis.  His  mother  was 
very  tenderly  attached  to  him,  and  Physcon 
took  him  away  on  this  very  account,  to  keep 
him  as  a  hostage  for  his  mother's  good  behav- 
ior. He  fancied  that,  when  he  was  gone,  she 
might  possibly  attempt  to  resume  possession  of 
the  throne. 

His  expectations  in  this  respect  were  realized. 
The  people  of  Alexandria  rallied  around  Cleo- 
patra, and  called  upon  her  to  take  the  crown. 
She  did  so,  feeling,  perhaps,  some  misgivings  ii 


48  CLBOFATRi  [B.C.  130 

Otoopatra  uMmM  the  gorernaMit  Hot  btilb-day 

respect  to  the  danger  which  such  a  step  might 
possibly  bring  upon  her  absent  boy.  She  quiet- 
ed herself,  however,  by  the  thought  that  he  was 
in  the  hands  of  his  own  father,  and  that  he 
eould  not  possibly  come  to  haroL 

After  some  little  time  had  elapsed,  and  Cle- 
opatra was  beginning  to  be  well  established  ir 
her  possession  of  the  supreme  power  at  Alex- 
andria, her  birth-day  approached,  and  arrange- 
ments were  made  for  celebrating  it  in  the  most 
magnificent  manner.  When  the  day  arrived, 
the  whole  city  was  given  up  to  festivities  and 
rejoicing.  Grand  entertainments  were  given  in 
the  palace,  and  games,  spectacles,  and  plays  in 
every  variety,  were  exhibited  and  performed  in 
all  quarters  of  the  city.  Cleopatra  herself  waa 
enjoying  a  magnificent  entertainment,  given  to 
the  lords  and  ladies  of  the  court  and  the  officers 
of  her  army,  in  one  of  the  royal  palaces. 

In  the  midst  of  this  scene  of  festivity  and 
pleasure,  it  was  announced  to  the  queen  that  a 
large  box  had  arrived  for  her.  The  bcx  wat 
brought  into  the  apartment.  It  had  the  appear- 
ance of  containing  some  magnificent  present, 
sent  in  a^  that  time  by  some  friend  in  honor  of 
the  occasion.  The  curiosity  of  the  queen  waa 
«xoited  to  know  what  the  mysterious  coffer 


B.C.  130.]       The  Ptolemies.  51 

Barbarity  of  Physcon.  (irlf^  of  Cleopatra 

might  contain.  She  ordered  it  to  be  opened; 
and  the  guests  gathered  around,  each  eager  to 
obtain  the  first  glimpse  of  the  contents.  Tha 
Hi  was  removed,  and  a  cloth  beneath  it  wa« 
raised,  when,  to  the  unutterable  horror  of  aL 
who  witnessed  the  spectacle,  there  was  seen  the 
head  and  hands  of  Cleopatra's  beautiful  boy, 
ying  among  masses  of  human  flesh,  which  con- 
sisted of  the  rest  of  his  body  cut  into  pieces. 
The  head  had  been  left  entire,  that  the  wretch- 
ed mother  might  recognize  in  the  pale  and  life- 
less features  the  countenance  of  her  son.  Phys- 
con  had  sent  the  box  to  Alexandria,  with  orders 
that  it  should  be  retained  until  the  evening  of 
the  birth-day,  and  then  presented  publicly  to 
Cleopatra  in  the  midst  of  the  festivities  of  the 
icene.  The  shrieks  and  cries  with  which  she 
filled  the  apartments  of  the  palace  at  the  first 
sight  of  the  dreadful  spectacle,  and  the  agony 
of  long-continued  and  inconsolable  grief  which 
followed,  showed  how  well  the  cruel  contrivance 
of  the  tyrant  was  fitted  to  accomplish  its  end. 

It  gives  us  no  pleasure  to  write,  and  we  arc 
sure  it  can  give  our  readers  no  pleasure  to  pe. 
rase,  such  shocking  stories  of  bloody  cruelty  as 
these.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to  a  just  ap- 
r'floiation  of  the  character  of  the  great  subject 


52  Cleopatra  (B.C.  117 

Oeoeral  elukracter  of  tha  Ptolemy  family. 

of  this  history,  that  we  should  understand  tkt> 
nature  of  the  domestic  influences  that  reigned 
in  the  family  from  which  she  sprung.  In  fact, 
it  is  due,  as  a  matter  of  simple  justice  to  her, 
that  we  should  know  what  these  influences 
were,  and  what  were  the  examples  set  before 
her  in  her  early  life  y  since  the  privileges  and 
advantages  which  the  young  enjoy  in  their  ear 
ly  years,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  evil  influ 
ences  under  which  they  suffer,  are  to  be  taken 
very  seriously  into  the  account  when  we  are 
nassing  judgment  upon  the  follies  and  sins  into 
which  they  subsequently  fall. 

The  monster  Physcon  lived,  it  is  true,  two  or 
three  generations  before  the  great  Cleopatra; 
but  the  character  of  the  intermediate  genera- 
tions, until  the  time  of  her  birth,  continued 
much  the  same.  In  fact,  the  cruelty,  corrup- 
tion, and  vice  which  reigned  in  every  branch  of 
the  royal  family  increased  rather  than  dimin- 
ished. The  beautiful  niece  of  Physcon,  who,  at 
the  time  of  her  compulsory  marriage  with  nim, 
evinced  such  an  aversion  to  the  monster,  hai 
become,  at  the  period  of  her  husband's  death,  aa 
great  a  monster  of  ambition,  selfishness,  and 
cruelty  as  he.  She  had  two  sons,  Lathyrus  and 
Alexander      Physcon,  when  he  died,  loft  the 


B.C.117.]       The  Ptolemibs.  SH 

Lathynu.  Terrfbla  qoarreU  wltfa  hla  motiier 

kingdom  of  Egypt  to  her  by  will,  authorizing 
her  to  associate  with  her  in  the  government 
whichever  of  these  two  sons  she  might  choose. 
The  oldest  was  best  entitled  to  this  privilege, 
by  his  priority  of  birth  ;  but  she  preferred  the 
youngest,  as  she  thought  that  her  own  power 
would  be  more  absolute  in  reigning  in  conjunc- 
tion with  him,  since  he  would  be  more  com- 
pletely under  her  control.  The  leading  powers, 
however,  in  Alexandria,  resisted  this  plan,  and 
msisted  on  Cleopatra's  associating  her  oldest 
son,  Lathyrus,  with  her  in  the  government  of 
the  realm.  They  compelled  her  to  recall  Lath- 
yrus from  the  banishment  into  which  she  had 
sent  him,  and  to  put  him  nominally  upon  the 
throne.  Cleopatra  yielded  to  this  necessity,  but 
she  forced  her  son  to  repudiate  his  wife,  and  to 
take,  instead,  another  woman,  whom  she  fancied 
she  could  make  more  subservient  to  her  will. 
The  mother  and  the  son  went  on  together  for  a 
time,  Lathyrus  being  nominally  king,  though 
her  determination  that  she  would  rule,  and  his 
struggles  to  resist  her  intolerable  tyranny,  made 
their  wretched  household  the  scene  of  terrible 
and  perpetual  quarrels.  At  last  Cleopatra  seiz- 
ed a  number  of  Lathyrus's  servants,  the  eu- 
anohs  who  were  employed  in  various  offices 


54  Cleopatra.  (B.C.  U? 

CrneldM  «f  Clitopatra.  A/exander  kOU  bet 

about  the  palace,  and  after  wounding  and  mu- 
tilating them  in  a  horrible  manner,  she  exhib> 
ited  them  to  the  populace,  saying  that  it  was 
Lathyrus  that  had  inflicted  the  cruel  injuries 
npon  the  sufferers,  and  calling  upon  them  to 
arise  and  punish  him  for  his  crimes.  In  this 
and  in  other  similar  ways  she  awakened  among 
the  people  of  the  court  and  of  the  city  such  an 
animosity  against  Lathyrus,  that  they  expelled 
him  from  the  country.  There  followed  a  long 
series  of  cruel  and  bloody  wars  between  the 
mother  and  the  son,  in  the  course  of  which  each 
party  perpetrated  against  the  other  almost  ev- 
ery imaginable  deed  of  atrocity  and  crime.  Al- 
exander, the  youngest  son,  was  so  afraid  of  his 
terrible  mother,  that  he  did  not  dare  to  remain 
in  Alexandria  with  her,  but  went  into  a  sort  of 
banishment  of  his  own  accord.  He,  however, 
finally  returned  to  Egypt.  His  mother  imme- 
diately supposed  that  he  was  intending  to  dis- 
turb her  possession  of  power,  and  resolved  to  de- 
stroy him.  He  became  acquainted  with  her 
designs,  and,  grown  desperate  by  the  long-con- 
tinued pressure  of  her  intolerable  tyranny,  he 
resolved  to  bring  the  anxiety  and  terror  in  which 
he  lived  to  an  end  by  killing  her.  This  he  did, 
and  then  fled  the  country     Lathyrus.  his  broth* 


B.C.n?.!       The  l^TOLEMiEs.  66 


Cleopatra  a  type  of  the  family.  Her  two  davgbteia 

er,  then  returned,  and  reigned  for  the  rest  of 
his  day?  in  a  tolerable  degree  of  quietness  and 
peace.  At  length  Lathyrus  died,  and  left  the 
kingdom  to  his  son,  Ptolemy  Auletes,  who  was 
the  great  Cleopatra's  father. 

We  can  not  soften  the  picture  which  is  ex- 
hibited to  our  view  in  the  history  of  this  cele- 
brated family,  by  regarding  the  mother  of  Au- 
letes, in  the  masculine  and  merciless  traits  and 
principles  which  she  displayed  so  energetically 
throughout  her  terrible  career,  as  an  exception 
to  the  general  character  of  the  princesses  who 
appeared  from  time  to  time  in  the  line.  In  am- 
bition, selfishness,  unnatural  and  reckless  cru- 
elty, and  utter  disregard  of  every  virtuous  prin- 
ciple and  of  every  domestic  tie,  she  was  but  tha 
type  and  representative  of  all  the  rest. 

She  had  two  daughters,  for  example,  who  wert 
the  consistent  and  worthy  followers  of  such  a 
mother.  A  passage  in  the  lives  of  these  sisters 
illustrates  very  forcibly  the  kind  of  sisterly  af- 
fection which  prevailed  in  the  family  of  the 
Ptolemies.     The  case  was  this : 

There  were  two  princes  of  Syria,  a  country 
lying  northeast  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and 
so  not.  very  far  from  Egypt,  who,  though  they 
wer        others,  were  in  a  state  of  most  deadly 


56  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  101 

Onnatonl  war.  TrypheiM'i  hatred  of  her 


hostility  to  each  other.  One  had  attempted  to 
poison  the  other,  and  afterward  a  war  had  bro- 
cen  out  between  them,  and  all  Syria  was  suf. 
fering  from  the  ravages  of  their  armies.  One 
of  the  sisters,  of  whom  we  have  been  speaking, 
married  one  of  these  princes.  Her  name  was 
Tryphena.  After  some  time,  but  yet  while  the 
unnatural  war  was  still  raging  between  the  two 
brothers,  Cleopatra,  the  other  sister — ^the  same 
Cleopatra,  in  fact,  that  had  been  divorced  from 
Lathyrus  at  the  instance  of  his  mother— es- 
poused the  other  brother.  Tryphena  was  ex- 
ceedingly incensed  against  Cleopatra  for  mar- 
rying her  husband's  mortal  foe,  and  the  implac- 
able hostility  and  hate  of  the  sisters  was  thence- 
forth added  to  that  which  the  brothers  had  be- 
fore exhibited,  to  complete  the  display  of  unnat- 
ural and  parricidal  passion  which  this  shameful 
contest  presented  to  the  world. 

In  fact,  Tryphena  from  this  time  seemed  to 
feel  a  new  and  highly-excited  interest  in  the 
contest,  from  her  eager  desire  to  revenge  her- 
self on  her  sister.  She  watched  the  progress 
of  it,  and  took  an  active  part  in  pressing  for- 
ward the  active  prosecution  of  the  war.  The 
party  of  her  husband,  either  from  this  or  soma 
other  causes,  seemed  to  be  gaining  the  day 


B.C.  101.]       The  Ptolemies.  57 

raking  of  Andoch.  Cleopatra  flees  to  a  tempi* 

The  husband  of  Cleopatra  was  driven  from  one 
part  of  the  country  to  another,  and  at  length; 
in  order  to  provide  for  the  security  of  his  wife, 
he  left  her  in  Antioch,  a  large  and  strongly 
fortified  city,  where  he  supposed  that  she  would 
be  safe,  while  he  himself  was  engaged  in  prose- 
cuting the  war  in  other  quarters  where  his  pres- 
ence seemed  to  be  required. 

On  learning  that  her  sister  was  at  Antioch. 
Tryphena  urged  her  husband  to  attack  the  place. 
He  accordingly  advanced  with  a  strong  detach- 
ment of  the  army,  and  besieged  and  took  the 
city.  Cleopatra  would,  of  course,  have  fallen 
into  his  hands  as  a  captive ;  but,  to  escape  this 
fate,  she  fled  to  a  temple  for  refuge.  A  temple 
was  considered,  in  those  days,  an  inviolable  sano 
tuary.  The  soldiers  accordingly  left  her  there. 
Tryphena,  however,  made  a  request  that  her 
husband  would  deliver  the  unhappy  fugitive 
into  her  hands.  She  was  determined,  she  said, 
to  kill  her.  Her  husband  remonstrated  with 
her  against  this  atrocious  proposal.  "  It  would 
be  a  wholly  useless  act  of  cruelty,"  said  he,  "  to 
destroy  her  life.  She  can  do  us  no  possible  harm 
in  the  future  progress  of  the  war,  while  to  mur- 
der her  under  these  circumstances  will  only  ex- 
aspera*.e  her  husband  and  her  friends,  and  nsrve 


58  Cleopatra.  (B.C.  101 

Joaloiuy  of  Tiyphen*.  Her  reKntment  inereaae* 

them  with  new  strength  for  the  remainder  of 
the  contest.  And  then,  besides,  she  has  taken 
refuge  in  a  temple ;  and  if  we  violate  that  sanc- 
taary,  we  shall  incur,  by  such  an  act  of  sacri- 
lege, the  implacable  displeasure  of  heaven.  Con- 
Bider,  too,  that  she  is  your  sister,  and  for  you  to 
kill  her  would  be  to, commit  an  unnatural  and 
wholly  inexcusable  crime." 

So  saying,  he  commanded  Tryphena  to  say 
no  more  upon  the  subject,  for  he  would  on  no 
account  consent  that  Cleopatra  should  suffer 
any  injury  whatever. 

This  refusal  on  the  part  of  her  husband  to 
comply  with  her  request  only  inflamed  Try- 
phena's  insane  resentment  and  anger  the  more. 
In  fact,  the  earnestness  with  which  he  espoused 
her  sister's  cause,  and  the  interest  which  he 
seemed  to  feel  in  her  fate,  aroused  Tryphena's 
jealousy.  She  believed,  or  pretended  to  believe, 
that  her  husband  was  influenced  by  a  sentiment 
of  love  in  so  warmly  defending  her.  The  ob- 
ject of  her  hate,  from  being  simply  an  enemy, 
became  now,  in  her  view,  a  rival,  and  she  re- 
solved that,  at  all  hazards,  she  should  be  de- 
stroyed. She  accordingly  ordered  a  body  of 
desperate  soldiers  to  break  into  the  temple  and 
seize  her.     Cleopatra  fled  in  terror  to  the  altar. 


BC.90.J        The  Ptolemies.  59 


Cni«l  and  laciitegloaa  murder. 


and  clung  to  it  with  such  convulsive  force  that 
the  soldiers  cut  her  hands  off  before  they  could 
tear  her  away,  and  then,  maddened  by  her  re- 
sistance and  the  sight  of  blood,  they  stabbed  her 
again  and  again  upon  the  floor  of  the  temple, 
where  she  fell.  The  appalling  shrieks  with 
which  the  wretched  victim  filled  the  air  in  the 
first  moments  of  her  flight  and  her  terror,  sub- 
sided, as  her  life  ebbed  away,  into  the  most 
awful  imprecations  of  the  judgments  of  heaven 
upon  the  head  of  the  unnatural  sister  whose 
Implacable  hate  had  destroyed  her. 

Notvnthstanding  the  specimens  that  we  have 
thus  given  of  the  character  and  action  of  this 
extraordinary  family,  the  government  of  this  dy- 
nasty, extending,  as  it  did,  through  the  reigns  of 
thirteen  sovereigns  and  over  a  period  of  nearly 
three  hundred  years,  has  always  been  considered 
one  of  the  most  liberal,  enlightened,  and  pros- 
perous of  all  the  governments  of  ancient  times 
We  shall  have  something  to  say  in  the  next 
chapter  in  respect  to  the  internal  condition  of 
the  country  while  these  violent  men  were  upon 
the  throne.  In  the  mean  time,  we  will  here  only 
add,  that  whoever  is  inclined,  in  observing  the 
ambition,  the  selfishness,  the  party  spirit,  the 


6V  Cleopatra.  [BC.90 

nw  moral  •ondltkm  of  numklnd  not  da§eaeratlng. 

unworthy  intrigues,  and  the  irregularities  of 
moral  conduct,  which  modern  rulers  and  states- 
men sometimes  exhibit  to  mankind  in  their  per* 
sonal  and  political  career,  to  believe  in  a  retro- 
gression and  degeneracy  of  national  character 
as  the  world  advances  in  age,  will  be  very  ef- 
feotually  undeceived  by  reading  attentively  a 
full  history  of  this  celebrated  dynasty,  and  re- 
flecting, as  he  reads,  that  the  narrative  presents  ^ 
on  the  whole,  a  fair  and  honest  exhibition  of  the 
general  character  of  the  men  by  whom,  in  an- 
eient  times,  the  world  was  governed. 


Alexandria.  61 

lalMmal  adminlttration  of  the  PtolamlM. 


Chapter  HI. 

Alexandria. 

TT  mnst  not  be  imagined  by  the  reader  that 
■*-  the  scenes  of  vicious  indulgence,  and  reck- 
less cruelty  and  crime,  which  were  exhibited 
with  such  dreadful  frequency,  and  carried  to 
such  an  enormous  excess  in  the  palaces  of  the 
Egyptian  kings,  prevailed  to  the  same  extent 
throughout  the  mass  of  the  community  during 
the  period  of  their  reign.  The  internal  admin- 
istration of  government,  and  the  institutions  by 
which  the  industrial  pursuits  of  the  mass  of  the 
people  were  regulated,  and  peace  and  order  pre- 
served, and  justice  enforced  between  man  and 
man,  were  all  this  time  in  the  hands  of  men 
well  qualified,  on  the  whole,  for  the  trusts  com- 
mitted to  their  charge,  and  in  a  good  degree 
faithful  in  the  performance  of  their  duties ;  and 
thus  the  ordinary  affairs  of  government,  and  the 
general  routine  of  domestic  and  social  life,  went 
on,  notwithstanding  the  profligacy  of  the  kings, 
in  a  course  of  very  tolerable  peace,  prosperity, 
aad  happinem.     Daring  every  on©  of  the  three 


63  Olbopatka. 

tednaby  of  the  peoplft.  Itt  h*ppy  effects 

hundred  years  over  which  the  history  of  thfl 
Ptolemies  extends,  the  whole  length  and  breadth 
of  the  land  of  Egypt  exhibited,  with  compara 
tively  few  interruptions,  one  wide-spread  scene 
of  busy  industry.  The  inundations  came  a1 
their  appointed  season,  and  then  regularly  re- 
tired. The  boundless  fields  which  the  waters 
had  fertilized  were  then  every  where  tilled. 
The  lands  were  plowed ;  the  seed  was  sown ; 
the  canals  and  water-courses,  which  ramified 
from  the  river  in  every  direction  over  the 
ground,  were  opened  or  closed,  as  the  case  re- 
quired, to  regulate  the  irrigation.  The  inhab- 
tants  were  busy,  and,  consequently,  they  were 
virtuous.  And  as  the  sky  of  Egypt  is  seldom 
or  never  darkened  by  clouds  and  storms,  the 
scene  presented  to  the  eye  the  same  unchang- 
ing aspect  of  smiling  verdure  and  beauty,  day 
after  day,  and  month  after  month,  until  the  rip- 
ened grain  was  gathered  into  the  store-houses, 
and  the  land  was  cleared  for  another  inundation 
We  say  that  the  people  were  virtuous  be- 
cause they  were  busy ;  for  there  is  no  principle 
of  political  economy  more  fully  established  than 
that  vice  in  the  social  stat«  is  the  incident  and 
symptom  of  idleness.  1 1  prevails  always  in  thostj 
•lasses  of  every  great  oopulation  who  are  eithe» 


Alexandria.  tiJj 

(dleness  the  parent  of  vice.  An  Idle  aristocracy  generdlljr  TiclooA 

released  bj-  the  possession  of  fixed  and  un- 
changeable  wealth  from  the  necessity,  or  ex. 
oluded  by  their  poverty  and  degradation  from 
the  advantage,  of  useful  employment.  "Wealth 
that  is  free,  and  subject  to  its  possessor's  con- 
trol, so  that  he  can,  if  he  will,  occupy  himself  in 
the  management  of  it,  while  it  sometimes  may 
make  individuals  vicious,  does  not  generally 
corrupt  classes  of  men,  for  it  does  not  make 
them  idle.  But  wherever  the  institutions  of  a 
country  are  such  as  to  create  an  aristocratic 
class,  whose  incomes  depend  on  entailed  estates , 
or  on  fixed  and  permanent  annuities,  so  that  the 
capital  on  which  they  live  can  not  afford  them 
any  mental  occupation,  they  are  doomed  neces- 
sarily to  inaction  and  idleness.  Vicious  pleas- 
ures and  indulgences  are,  with  such  a  class  as 
a  whole,  the  inevitable  result ;  for  the  innocent 
enjoyments  of  man  are  planned  and  designed  by 
the  Author  of  nature  only  for  the  intervals  of 
rest  and  repose  in  a  life  of  activity.  They  are 
always  found  wholly  insufficient  to  satisfy  one 
who  makes  pleasure  the  whole  end  and  aim  of 
tiis  being. 

In  the  same  manner,  if,  either  from  the  infia- 
ence  of  the  social  institutions  of  a  country,  or 
from  the  operation  of  natural  causes  which  hu- 


64  Clbopatka. 

Degradation  and  rloe.  EnplojriBent  a  core  for  bo(^ 

man  power  is  anable  to  oontrol,  there  is  a  class 
of  men  too  low,  and  degraded,  and  miserable  tc 
be  reached  by  the  ordinary  inducements  to  daily 
toil,  so  certain  are  they  to  grow  corrupt  and  de- 
praved, that  degradation  has  become  in  all  lan- 
guages a  term  almost  synonymous  with  vice. 
There  are  many  exceptions,  it  is  true,  to  these 
general  laws.  Many  active  men  are  very  wick- 
ed ;  and  there  have  been  frequent  instances  of 
the  most  exalted  virtue  among  nobles  and  kings. 
Still,  as  a  general  law,  it  is  unquestionably  true 
that  vice  is  the  incident  of  idleness ;  and  the 
sphere  of  vice,  therefore,  is  at  the  top  and  at  the 
bottom  of  society — those  being  the  regions  in 
which  idleness  reigns.  The  great  remedy,  too, 
for  vice  is  employment.  To  make  a  commu- 
nity virtuous,  it  is  essential  that  all  ranks  cmd 
gradations  of  it,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest, 
«hould  have  something  to  do. 

In  accordance  with  these  principles,  we  ob- 
•erve  that,  while  the  most  extreme  and  abom> 
inable  wickedness  seemed  to  hold  continual  and 
absolute  sway  in  the  palaces  of  the  PtolemieSi 
and  among  the  nobles  of  their  courts,  the  work- 
ing ministers  of  state,  and  the  men  on  whom 
the  actual  governmental  functions  devolved,  dis- 
charged their  duties  with  wisdom  and  fidelity, 


A.LEXANDRIA.  65 


Ore«tneM  of  Alex«ndrla.  Sltnadon  of  its  port 

and  throughout  all  the  ordinary  ranks  and  gra- 
dations of  society  there  prevailed  generally  a 
very  considerable  degree  of  industry,  prosperity, 
and  happiness.  This  prosperity  prevailed  not 
only  in  the  rural  districts  of  the  Delta  and  along 
the  valley  of  the  Nile,  but  also  among  the  mer- 
chants, and  navigators,  and  artisans  of  Alex- 
andria. 

Alexandria  became,  in  fact,  very  soon  after 
it  was  founded,  a  very  great  and  busy  city 
Many  things  conspired  to  make  it  at  once  a 
great  commercial  emporium.  In  the  first  place, 
it  was  the  depot  of  export  for  all  the  surplus 
grain  and  other  agricultural  produce  which  was 
raised  in  such  abundance  along  the  Egyptian 
valley.  This  produce  was  brought  down  in 
boats  to  the  upper  point  of  the  Delta,  where  the 
branches  of  the  river  divided,  and  thence  down 
the  Canopio  branch  to  the  city.  The  city  was 
lot,  in  fact,  situated  directly  upon  this  branch, 
but  upon  a  narrow  tongue  of  land,  at  a  little 
distance  from  it,  near  the  sea.  It  was  not  easy 
to  enter  the  channel  directly,  on  account  of  the 
bars  and  sand-banks  at  its  mouth,  produced  by 
the  eternal  conflict  between  the  waters  of  the 
river  and  the  surges  of  the  sea.  The  water 
wblH  deep,  however,  as  Alexander's  engineers 
16—6 


66  Clbopatra. 

Warehotuo*  an  J  granariea.  BoalanM  of  Otm  pun. 

had  discovered,  at  the  place  whore  the  city  wa» 
built,  and,  by  eetablisliing  the  port  there,  and 
then  cutting  a  canal  across  to  the  Nile,  the> 
were  enabled  to  bring  the  rivei  and  the  sea  at 
once  into  easy  communication. 

The  produce  of  the  valley  was  thus  brought 
down  the  river  and,  through  the  canal  to  the 
city.  Here  immense  warehouses  and  granaries 
were  erected  for  its  reception,  that  it  might  be 
safely  preserved  until  the  ships  that  came  into 
tb*^  port  were  ready  to  take  it  away.  These 
ships  came  from  Syria,  from  all  the  coasts  of 
Asia  Minor,  from  Greece,  and  from  Rome 
They  brought  the  agricultural  productions  of 
their  own  countries,  as  well  as  articles  of  man- 
ufaoture  of  various  kinds ;  these  they  sold  to 
the  merchants  of  Alexandria,  and  purchased 
the  productions  of  Egypt  in  return. 

The  port  of  Alexandria  presented  thus  a  con- 
.  lant  picture  of  life  and  animation.  Merchant 
ships  were  continually  coming  and  going,  or 
lying  at  anchor  in  the  roadstead.  Seamen  were 
hoisting  sails,  or  raising  anchors,  or  rowing  their 
capacious  galleys  through  the  water,  singing,  as 
they  pulled,  to  the  motion  of  the  oars.  Within 
the  city  there  was  the  same  ceaseless  activity. 
Hare  groups  of  men  were  unloading  the  canal 


Alexandria.  ti7 

BeeaM  within  the  city.  The  natlTeg  protected  in  their  Indoitr; 

boats  which  had  arrived  from  the  river.  There 
porters  were  transporting  bales  of  merchandise 
or  sacks  of  giain  from  a  warehouse  to  a  pier, 
or  from  one  landing  to  another.  The  occasion- 
al  parading  of  the  king's  guards,  or  the  arrival 
and  departure  of  ships  of  war  to  land  or  to  take 
away  bodies  of  armed  men,  were  occurrences 
that  sometimes  intervened  to  interrupt,  or  as 
perhaps  the  people  then  would  have  said,  to 
adorn  this  scene  of  useful  industry ;  and  now 
and  then,  for  a  brief  period,  these  peaceful  avo- 
cations would  be  wholly  suspended  and  set  aside 
by  a  revolt  or  by  a  civil  war,  waged  by  rival 
brothers  against  each  other,  or  instigated  by  the 
conflicting  claims  of  a  mother  and  son.  These 
interruptions,  however,  were  comparatively  few, 
and,  in  ordinary  cases,  not  of  long  continuance. 
It  was  for  the  interest  of  all  branches  of  the 
royal  line  to  do  as  little  injury  as  possible  to  the 
commercial  and  agricultural  operations  of  the 
realm.  In  fact,  it  was  on  the  prosperity  of  those 
operations  that  the  revenues  depended.  The 
rulers  were  well  aware  of  this,  and  so,  however 
implacably  two  rival  princes  may  have  hated 
one  another,  and  however  desperately  each  party 
may  have  struggled  to  destroy  all  active  com- 
batants whom  they  should  find  in  arms  tgain«t 


68  Olbopatra. 

Pabllo  «difloe*.  Tha  Il«ht^oiu> 

them,  they  were  both  under  every  possible  in 
duoement  to  spare  the  private  property  and  the 
lives  of  the  peaceful  population.  This  popula* 
tion,  in  fact,  engaged  thus  in  profitable  Indus, 
try,  constituted,  with  the  avails  of  their  labors, 
the  very  estate  for  which  the  combatants  were 
contending. 

Seeing  the  subject  in  this  light,  the  Egyptian 
sovereigns,  especially  Alexander  and  the  earlier 
Ptolemies,  made  every  effort  in  their  power  to 
promote  the  commercial  greatness  of  Alexan- 
dria. They  built  palaces,  it  is  true,  but  they 
also  built  warehouses.  One  of  the  most  expen- 
sive and  celebrated  of  all  the  edifices  that  they 
reared  was  the  light-house  which  has  been  al- 
ready alluded  to.  This  light-house  was  a  lofty 
tower,  built  of  white  marble.  It  was  situated 
upon  the  island  of  Pharos,  opposite  to  the  city, 
and  at  some  distance  from  it.  There  was  a 
sort  of  isthmus  of  shoals  and  sand-bars  connect- 
ing the  island  with  the  shore.  Over  these  shal- 
iows  a  pier  or  causeway  was  built,  which  final- 
ly became  a  broad  and  inhabited  neck.  The 
principal  part  of  the  ancient  city,  ho  tsrever,  was 
on  the  main  land.* 

*  See  Map  of  the  Delta  of  the  Nile,  p«ge  39 ,  k1k>  lh«  View 
«f  Alexandria,  page  162. 


B.C.  28'J.]  Alexandria.  69 

Fame  of  the  Ugfat-hotua.  Iti  ooiiBplcaoui  potttloa 

The  curvature  of  the  earth  requires  that  a 
light-house  on  a  coast  should  have  a  consider- 
able elevation,  otherwise  its  summit  would  not 
appear  above  the  horizon,  unless  the  mariner 
were  very  near.  To  attam  this  elevation,  the 
architects  usually  take  advantage  of  some  hill  or 
cliif,  or  rocky  eminence  near  the  shore.  There 
was,  however,  no  opportunity  to  do  this  at  Pha- 
ros ;  for  the  island  was,  like  the  main  land,  level 
and  low.  The  requisite  elevation  could  only  be 
attained,  therefore,  by  the  masonry  of  an  edi- 
fice, and  the  blocks  of  marble  necessary  for  the 
work  had  to  be  brought  from  a  great  distance. 
The  Alexandrian  light-house  was  reared  in  the 
time  of  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  the  second  mon- 
arch in  the  line.  No  pains  or  expense  were 
spared  in  its  construction.  The  edifice,  when 
completed,  was  considered  one  of  the  seven  won- 
ders of  the  world.  It  was  indebted  for  its  fame, 
however,  in  some  degree,  undoubtedly  to  tho 
oonspicuousness  of  its  situation,  rising,  as  it  did, 
at  the  entrance  of  the  greatest  commercial  em- 
porium of  its  time,  and  standing  there,  like  a 
pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of  fire  by  night,  to 
attract  the  welcome  gaze  of  every  wandering 
mariner  whose  ship  came  within  its  horizon, 
and  to  awaken  his  gratitude  by  tendering  him 
its  guidanoe  and  dispollinfir  his  fears 


70  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  28*3 

Mode  of  lighting  the  tower.  Modern  method 

The  light  at  the  top  of  the  tower  was  pro 
duoed  by  a  fire,  made  of  such  combustibles  ttt 
would  emit  the  brightest  flame.  This  fire 
burned  slowly  through  the  day,  and  then  w&m 
kindled  up  anew  when  the  sun  went  down,  and 
was  continually  replenished  through  the  night 
with  fresh  supplies  of  fuel.  In  modern  times, 
a  much  more  convenient  and  economical  mode 
is  adopted  to  produce  the  requisite  illumina- 
tion. A  great  blazing  lamp  burns  brilliantly 
in  the  center  of  the  lantern  of  the  tower,  and 
all  that  part  of  the  radiation  from  the  flame 
which  would  naturally  have  beamed  upward, 
or  downward,  or  laterally,  or  back  toward  the 
land,  is  so  turned  by  a  curious  system  of  re- 
flectors and  polyzonal  lenses,  most  ingeniously 
contrived  and  very  exactly  adjusted,  as  to  be 
thrown  forward  in  one  broad  and  thin,  but  brill- 
iant sheet  of  light,  which  shoots  out  where  its 
radiance  is  needed,  over  the  surface  of  the  sea. 
Before  these  inventions  were  perfected,  far  the 
largest  portion  of  the  light  emitted  by  the  illu- 
mination of  light-house  towers  streamed  away 
wastefully  in  landward  directions,  or  was  lost 
among  the  stars. 

Of  course,  the  glory  of  erecting  such  an  edi- 
fice as  the  Pharos  of  Alexandria,  and  of  mais> 


B.C.  283.J  Alexandria. 


n*  architect  of  the  Pharo*.  HU  Ingenlons  ttnUgem 

taining  it  in  the  performance  of  its  functions, 
was  very  great ;  the  question  might,  however, 
very  naturally  arise  whether  this  glory  was 
justly  due  to  the  architect  through  whose  scien- 
dfis  skill  the  work  was  actually  accomplished, 
or  to  the  monarch  by  whose  power  and  resour- 
ces the  architect  was  sustained.  The  name  of 
the  architect  was  Sostratus.  He  was  a  Greek. 
The  monarch  was,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
the  second  Ptolemy,  called  commonly  Ptolemy 
Philadelphus.  Ptolemy  ordered  that,  in  com- 
pleting the  tower,  a  marble  tablet  should  be 
built  into  the  wall,  at  a  suitable  place  near  the 
summit,  and  that  a  proper  inscription  should 
be  carved  upon  it,  with  his  name  as  the  builder 
of  the  edifice  conspicuous  thereon.  Sostratus 
preferred  inserting  his  own  name.  He  accord 
ingly  made  the  tablet  and  set  it  in  its  place. 
He  cut  the  inscription  upon  the  face  of  it,  in 
Greek  characters,  with  his  own  name  as  the 
Author  of  the  work.  He  did  this  secretly,  and 
then  covered  the  face  of  the  tablet  with  an  ar- 
tificial composition,  made  with  lime,  to  imitate 
the  natural  surface  of  the  stone.  On  this  outer 
surface  he  cut  a  new  inscription,  in  which  he 
inserted  the  name  of  the  king.  In  process  of 
tWie  the  lime  moldered  away,  the  king's  in- 


72  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  283. 

BaintoftfasPhuo*.  The  Alezandiian  libraiy 

Boription  disappeared,  and  his  own,  which  thence- 
forward continued  as  long  as  the  building  en- 
dured, came  out  to  view. 

The  Pharos  was  said  to  have  been  four  hnnd 
rod  feet  high.  It  was  famed  throughout  the 
world  for  many  centuries;  nothing,  however, 
remains  of  it  now  but  a  heap  of  useless  and 
unmeaning  ruins. 

Besides  the  light  that  beamed  from  the  sum- 
mit of  this  lofty  tower,  there  was  another  cen- 
ter of  radiance  and  illumination  in  ancient  Al- 
exandria, which  was  in  some  respects  still  more 
conspicuous  and  renowned,  namely,  an  im- 
mense library  and  museum  established  and 
maintained  by  the  Ptolemies.  The  Museum, 
which  was  first  established,  was  not,  as  its  name 
might  now  imply,  a  collection  of  curiosities,  but 
an  institution  of  learning,  consisting  of  a  body 
of  learned  men,  who  devoted  their  time  to  phil- 
osophical and  scientific  pursuits.  The  institu- 
tion was  richly  endowed,  and  magnificent  build- 
ings  were  erected  for  its  use.  The  king  who 
established  it  began  immediately  to  make  a  col- 
lection of  books  for  the  use  of  the  members  of 
the  institution.  This  was  attended  with  great 
expense,  as  every  book  that  was  added  to  the 
oolleotion  required  to  be  transcribed  with  a  pen 


Alexandria  73 


bnmenM  magnitude  of  the  library.  Tba  Btnfloa 

on  parchment  or  papyrus,  with  infinite  labor  and 
care  Great  numbers  of  scribes  were  constant* 
iy  employed  upon  this  work  at  the  Museum. 
The  kings  who  were  most  interested  in  forming 
this  library  would  seize  the  books  that  were  pos- 
sessed by  individual  scholars,  or  that  were  de- 
posited in  the  various  cities  of  their  dominions, 
and  then,  causing  beautiful  copies  of  them  to  be 
made  by  the  scribes  of  the  Museum,  they  would 
retain  the  originals  for  the  great  Alexandrian 
Library,  and  give  the  copies  to  the  men  or  the 
cities  that  had  been  thus  despoiled.  In  the 
same  manner  they  would  borrow,  as  thev  called 
it,  from  all  travelers  who  visited  Egypt,  any 
valuable  books  which  they  might  have  in  their 
possession,  and,  retaining  the  originals,  give 
them  back  copies  instead. 

In  process  of  time  the  library  increased  to 
four  hundred  thousand  volumes.  There  was 
then  no  longer  any  room  in  the  buildings  of  the 
Museum  for  further  additions.  There  was, 
however,  in  another  part  of  the  city,  a  great 
temple  called  the  Serapion.  This  temple  was 
a  very  magnificent  edifice,  or,  rather,  group  of 
edifices,  dedicated  to  the  god  Serapis.  The  or- 
igin and  history  of  this  temple  were  very  re- 
markable    The  legend  wag  this : 


74  Cleopatra. 

The  SerspU  of  Egypt  The  SanpU  of  Greec« 

It  seems  that  one  of  the  ancient  and  long 
venerated  gods  of  the  Egyptians  was  a  deity 
named  Serapis.  He  had  been,  among  other  di- 
vinities, the  object  of  Egyptian  adoration  ages 
before  Alexandria  was  built  or  the  Ptolemies 
reigned.  There  was  also,  by  a  curious  coinci- 
dence, a  statue  of  the  same  name  at  a  great 
commercial  town  named  Sinope,  which  was 
built  upon  the  extremity  of  a  promontory  which 
projected  from  Asia  Minor  into  the  Euxine 
Sea.*  Sinope  was,  in  some  sense,  the  Alexan- 
dria of  the  north,  being  the  center  and  seat  of  a 
great  portion  of  the  commerce  of  that  quarter 
of  the  world. 

The  Serapis  of  Sinope  was  considered  as  the 
protecting  deity  of  seamen,  and  tlie  navigators 
who  came  and  went  to  and  froni  the  city  made 
sacrifices  to  him,  and  offered  him  oblations  and 
prayers,  believing  that  they  were,  in  a  great 
measure,  dependent  upon  8om«  mysterious  and 
inscrutable  power  which  he  exercised  for  theii 
safety  in  stornus.  They  carried  the  knowledge 
af  his  name,  and  tales  of  his  imaginary  inter- 
positions, to  all  the  places  that  they  visited  ; 
and  thus  the  fame  of  the  god  became  extended; 
first,  to  all  the  coasts  of  the  Euxine  Sea,  and 

*  See  map;  fir  mtispiece. 


Alexandria. 


Ptolemy's  dream.  Importance  of  the  8tata» 

subsequently  to  distant  provinces  and  kingdoms. 
The  Serapis  of  Sinope  began  to  be  considered 
sviry  where  as  the  tutelar  god  of  seamen. 

Accordingly,  when  the  first  of  the  Ptolemies 
was  forming  his  various  plans  for  adorning  and 
aggrandizing  Alexandria,  he  received,  he  said, 
one  night,  a  divine  intimation  in  a  dream  that 
he  was  to  obtain  the  statue  of  Serapis  from  Si- 
nope, and  set  it  up  in  Alexandria,  in  a  suitable 
temple  which  he  was  in  the  mean  time  to  erect 
in  honor  of  the  god.  It  is  obvious  that  very 
great  advantages  to  the  city  would  result  from 
the  accomplishment  of  this  design.  In  the  first 
place,  a  temple  to  the  god  Serapis  would  be  a 
new  distinction  for  it  in  the  minds  of  the  rural 
population,  who  would  undoubtedly  suppose  that 
the  deity  honored  by  it  was  their  own  ancient 
god.  Then  the  whole  maritime  and  nautical 
interest  of  the  world,  which  had  been  accustom- 
ed to  adore  the  god  of  Sinope,  would  turn  to  Al- 
exandria as  the  great  center  of  religious  attrac- 
tion, if  their  venerated  idol  could  be  carried  and 
placed  in  a  new  and  magnificent  temple  built 
expressly  for  him  there.  Alexandria  could  nev- 
er be  the  chief  naval  port  and  station  of  the 
««rurld,  unless  it  contained  the  sanctuary  and 
shrine  of  the  god  of  seamen 


70  Cleopatra. 

ftcimmj't  propoMl  to  the  King  of  Staope.  Hit  ■HhiB»««  noeeM 

Ptolemy  sent  accordingJy  to  the  King  of  Si- 
nope  and  proposed  to  purchase  the  idol.  The 
embassage  was,  however,  unsuccessful.  The 
king  refused  to  give  up  the  god.  The  negotia- 
tions were  continued  for  two  years,  but  all  in 
vain.  At  length,  on  account  of  some  failure  in 
the  regular  course  of  the  seasons  on  that  coast, 
there  was  a  famine  there,  which  became  finally 
so  severe  that  the  people  of  the  city  were  induc- 
ed to  consent  to  give  up  their  deity  to  the  Egyp- 
tians in  exchange  for  a  supply  of  corn.  Ptole- 
my sent  the  corn  and  received  the  idol.  He 
then  built  the  temple,  which,  when  finished, 
surpassed  in  grandeur  and  magnificence  almost 
every  sacred  structure  in  the  world. 

It  was  in  this  temple  that  the  successive  ad 
ditions  to  the  Alexandrian  library  were  depos- 
ited, when  the  apartments  at  the  Museum  be- 
came full.  In  the  end  there  were  four  hundred 
thousand  rolls  or  volumes  in  the  Museum,  and 
throe  hundred  thousand  in  the  Serapion.  The 
former  was  called  the  parent  library,  and  the 
latter,  being,  as  it  were,  the  offspring  of  the  first, 
was  called  the  daughter 

Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  who  interested  him- 
self very  greatly  in  oollecting  this  library,  wished 
to  make  it  a  oorrplete  oolleotion  oi  all  the  bookt 


Alexandria..  77 

Mode  of  obtaining  booka.  The  JewUh  Bcriptire* 

in  the  world.  He  employed  scholars  to  read 
and  study,  and  travelers  to  make  extensive 
tours,  for  the  purpose  of  learning  what  books 
existed  among  all  the  surrounding  nations ;  and, 
when  he  learned  of  their  existence,  he  spared 
no  pains  or  expense  in  attempting  to  procure 
either  the  originals  themselves,  or  the  most  per- 
fect and  authentic  copies  of  them.  He  sent  to 
Athens  and  obtained  the  works  of  the  most  cel- 
ebrated Greek  historians,  and  then  causing,  as 
in  other  cases,  most  beautiful  transcripts  to  be 
made,  he  sent  the  transcripts  back  to  Athens, 
and  a  very  large  sum  of  money  with  them  as 
an  equivalent  for  the  difference  of  value  between 
originals  and  copies  in  such  an  exchange. 

In  the  course  of  the  inquiries  which  Ptolemy 
made  into  the  literature  of  the  surrounding  na- 
tions, in  his  search  for  accessions  to  his  library, 
he  heard  that  the  Jews  had  certain  sacred  vn-it- 
ings  in  their  temple  at  Jerusalem,  comprising 
a  minute  and  extremely  interesting  history  of 

heir  nation  from  the  earliest  periods,  and  also 
many  other  books  of  sacred  prophecy  and  poo- 
try.  These  books,  which  were,  in  fact,  the  He- 
brew Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament,  were 
then  wholly  unknown  to  all  nations  except  the 

Jews,  and  among  the  Jews  were  known  onl^ 


78  Cleopatra. 

SedoahNi  of  the  Jews.  InterMt  felt  In  their  Bcrlpturee. 

to  priests  and  scholars.  They  were  kept  saorea 
at  Jerusalem.  The  Jews  would  have  consid- 
ered them  as  profaned  in  being  exhibited  to  the 
view  of  pagan  nations.  In  fact,  the  learned 
men  of  other  countries  would  not  have  been 
able  to  read  them  ;  for  the  Jews  secluded  thein- 
Belves  so  closely  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  that 
their  language  was,  in  that  age,  scarcely  ever 
heard  beyond  the  confines  of  Judea  and  Galilee. 
Ptolemy  very  naturally  thought  that  a  copy 
of  these  sacred  books  would  be  a  great  acc|uisi- 
tion  to  his  library.  They  constituted,  in  fact, 
the  whole  literature  of  a  nation  which  was,  in 
eome  respects,  the  most  extraordinary  that  ever 
existed  on  the  globe.  Ptolemy  conceived  the 
idea,  also,  of  not  only  adding  to  his  library  a 
copy  of  these  writings  in  the  original  Hebrew, 
but  of  causing  a  translation  of  them  to  be  made 
into  Greek,  so  that  they  might  easily  be  read 
by  the  Greek  and  Roman  scholars  who  were 
drawn  in  great  numbers  to  his  capital  by  the 
libraries  and  the  learned  institutions  which  he 
bad  established  there.  Thr  first  thing  to  be  ef- 
fected,  however,  in  accomplishing  either  of  these 
plans,  was  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  Jewish 
anthoritiefl.  They  would  probably  object  to  giv- 
ing up  any  copy  of  their  saored  writings  at  all 


Alexandria.  79 

lewlth  tiaves  In  Egypt  Ptolemy**  derigiu 

There  was  one  circumstance  which  led  Ptol- 
emy to  imagine  that  the  Jews  would,  at  that 
time  particularly,  be  averse  to  granting  any  ro' 
quest  of  such  a  nature  coming  from  an  Egyp- 
tian king,  and  that  was,  that  during  certain 
wars  which  had  taken  place  in  previous  reigns, 
a  considerable  number  of  prisoners  had  been  ta- 
ken by  the  Egyptians,  and  had  been  brought  to 
Egypt  as  captives,  where  they  had  been  sold  to 
the  inhabitants,  and  were  now  scattered  over 
the  land  as  slaves.  They  were  employed  as 
servile  laborers  in  tilling  the  fields,  or  in  turn- 
ing enormous  wheels  to  pump  up  water  from 
the  Nile.  The  masters  of  these  hapless  bond- 
men conceived,  like  other  slave-holders,  that  they 
had  a  right  of  property  in  their  slaves.  This 
was  in  some  respects  true,  since  they  had  bought 
them  of  the  government  at  the  close  of  the  war 
for  a  consideration ;  and  though  they  obviously 
derived  from  this  circumstance  no  valid  propri- 
etary right  or  claim  as  against  the  men  person- 
ally, it  certainly  would  seem  that  it  gave  them 
a  just  claim  against  the  government  of  whom 
they  bought,  in  case  of  subsequent  nanumi*' 
eion. 

Ptolemy  or  his  minister,  for  it  can  not  now 
M  known  who  was  the  real  actor  in  these  tran» 


80  Cleopatra. 

Ptolamy  IttMratM  tiie  tlaTM.  ndr  naaoa  pitld 

actions,  determined  on  liberating  these  slaves 
and  sending  them  back  to  their  native  land,  as 
a  means  of  propitiating  the  Jews  and  inclining 
them  to  listen  favorably  to  the  request  which 
he  was  about  to  prefer  for  a  copy  of  their  sacred 
writings.  He,  however,  paid  to  those  who  held 
the  captives  a  very  liberal  sum  for  ransom.  The 
ancient  historians,  who  never  allow  the  interest 
of  their  narratives  to  suffer  for  want  of  a  proper 
amplification  on  their  part  of  the  scale  on  which 
the  deeds  which  they  record  were  performed, 
say  that  the  number  of  slaves  liberated  on  this 
occasion  was  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand, 
and  the  sum  paid  for  them,  as  compensation  to 
the  owners,  was  six  hundred  talents,  equal  to 
six  hundred  thousand  dollars.*  And  yet  this 
was  only  a  preliminary  expense  to  pave  the 
way  for  the  acquisition  of  a  single  series  of 
books,  to  add  to  the  variety  of  the  immense 
eolleotion. 

After  the  liberation  and  return  of  the  oap- 

*  It  will  be  aufficientlj  accurate  for  the  general  reader  of 
biitory  to  comider  the  Greek  talent,  referred  to  in  such  tran*- 
■ctiona  as  these,  aa  equal  in  Engliih  money  to  two  hondred 
■nd  fifty  poands,  in  American  to  a  thousand  dollars.  It  it 
curious  to  observe  that,  large  as  the  total  was  that  was  paid 
tar  the  liberation  of  these  slaves,  the  amount  paid  for  each  in 
Aividoal  vi*m,  after  all,  only  a  sum  equal  to  about  five  dollars 


B.C.  298-285.J  Alexandria.  81 

Ptolemy's  luccesf.  The  SeptKaftal 

tives,  Ptolemy  sent  a  splendid  embassage  to 
Jerusalem,  with  very  respectful  letters  to  the 
high  priest,  and  with  very  magnificent  pres- 
ents. The  embassadors  were  received  with  the 
highest  honors.  The  request  of  Ptolemy  thai 
he  should  be  allowed  to  take  a  copy  of  the  sa- 
3red  books  for  his  library  was  very  readily 
i^ranted. 

The  priests  caused  copies  to  be  made  of  all 
the  sacred  writings.  These  copies  were  executed 
in  the  most  magnificent  style,  and  were  splen- 
didly illuminated  with  letters  of  gold.  The 
Jewish  government  also,  at  Ptolemy's  request, 
designated  a  company  of  Hebrew  scholars,  six 
from  each  tribe — men  learned  in  both  the  Greek 
and  Hebrew  languages — to  proceed  to  Alexan- 
dria, and  there,  at  the  Museum,  to  make  a  care- 
ful  translation  of  the  Hebrew  books  into  G  reek. 
\.a  there  were  twelve  tribes,  and  six  translators 
chosen  from  each,  there  were  seventy-two  trans- 
lators in  all.  They  m^de  their  translation,  and 
it  was  called  the  Septuagint,  from  the  Latin 
^eptuaginta  duo,  which  means  seventy-two. 

Although  out  of  Judea  there  was  no  feeling  of 

reverence  for  these  Hebrew  Scriptures  as  books 

'ii  divine  authority,  there  was  still  a  strong  in- 

terest  felt  in  them  as  very  entertaining  and  cu- 
16—6 


82  Clbopatra.   [B.G.29d-28a 

■wlf  o»|riM  of  the  Septnaglnt  Preaent  aopl«* 

rious  works  of  history,  by  all  the  Greek  and 
Roman  scholars  who  frequented  Alexandria  t« 
study  at  the  Museum.  Copies  were  accord- 
ingly made  of  the  Septuagint  translation,  and 
were  taken  to  other  countries ;  and  there,  io 
process  of  time,  copies  of  the  copies  were  made, 
until  at  length  the  work  became  extensively 
circulated  throughout  the  whole  learned  world. 
When,  finally,  Christianity  became  extended 
over  the  Roman  empire,  the  priests  and  monkr 
looked  with  even  a  stronger  interest  than  th« 
ancient  scholars  had  felt  upon  this  early  trans 
lation  of  so  important  a  portion  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  They  made  new  copies  for  abbeys, 
monasteries,  and  colleges ;  and  when,  at  length, 
the  art  of  printing  was  discovered,  this  work 
was  one  of  the  first  on  which  the  magic  powei 
of  typography  was  tried.  The  original  manu- 
script made  by  the  scribes  of  the  seventy  two, 
and  all  the  early  transcripts  which  were  mad» 
from  it,  have  long  since  been  lost  or  destroyed ; 
but,  instead  of  them,  we  have  now  hundredfl  ol 
thousands  of  copies  in  compact  printed  volumesi 
8oatt<3red  among  the  public  and  private  librariet 
of  Christendom.  In  fact,  now,  after  the  lapse 
of  two  thousand  years,  a  copy  of  Ptolemy's  Sep- 
tuagint may  be  obtained  of  any  oonsidorsbV 


B.C.29«-285.J  Alexandria  Sc 

VaricHU  other  plsna  of  the  Ptolemies.  Meani  of  ralslag  waaamj 

bookseller  in  any  country  of  the  civilized  world ; 
and  though  it  required  a  national  embassage, 
and  an  expenditure,  if  the  accounts  are  true, 
of  more  than  a  million  of  dollars,  originally  to 
obtain  it,  it  may  be  procured  without  difficult} 
now  by  two  days'  wages  of  an  ordinary  laborer. 

Besides  the  building  of  the  Pharos,  the  Mu- 
seum, and  the  Temple  of  Serapis,  the  early 
Ptolemies  formed  and  executed  a  great  many 
other  plans  tending  to  the  same  ends  which  the 
erection  of  these  splendid  edifices  was  designed 
to  secure,  namely,  to  concentrate  in  Alexan- 
dria all  possible  means  of  attraction,  commer- 
cial, literary,  and  religious,  so  as  to  make  the 
oity  the  great  center  of  interest,  and  the  com- 
mon resort  for  all  mankind.  They  raised  im- 
mense revenues  for  these  and  other  purposes  by 
taxing  heavily  the  whole  agricultural  produce 
of  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  The  inundations,  by 
the  boundless  fertility  which  they  annually  pro- 
duced, supplied  the  royal  treasuries.  Thus  the 
Abyssinian  rains  at  the  sources  of  the  Nile  built 
the  Pharos  at  its  mouth,  and  endowed  the  Al- 
exandrian library. 

The  taxes  laid  upon  the  people  of  Egypt  to 
supply  the  Ptolemies  with  funds  were,  in  fact, 
m  heavy,  that  only  the  bare  means  of  subftist- 


64  Cleopatra. 

HesTy  taxet.  Pormtr  of  the  peopl* 

enoe  were  left  to  the  mass  of  the  agricultural 
population.  In  admiring  tne  greatness  and  glo- 
ry of  the  city,  therefore,  we  must  remembei 
♦.hat  there  was  a  gloomy  counterpart  to  it« 
splendor  in  the  very  extended  destitution  and 
poverty  to  which  the  mass  of  the  people  were 
»very  where  doomed.  They  lived  in  hamlets 
of  wretched  huttj  along  the  banks  of  the  river, 
in  order  that  the  capital  might  be  splendidly 
adorned  with  temples  and  palaces.  They  pass- 
ed their  lives  in  darkness  and  ignorance,  that 
seven  hundred  thousand  volumes  of  expensive 
manuscripts  might  be  enrolled  at  the  Museum 
for  the  use  of  foreign  philosophers  and  scholars. 
The  policy  of  the  Ptolemies  was,  perhaps,  on 
the  whole,  the  best,  for  the  general  advance- 
ment  and  ultimate  welfare  of  mankind,  which 
could  have  been  pursued  in  the  age  in  which 
they  lived  and  acted ;  but,  in  applauding  the  re- 
sults which  they  attained,  we  must  not  wholly 
forget  the  cost  which  they  incurred  in  attaining 
them.  At  the  same  cost,  we  could,  at  the  pres- 
3nt  day,  far  surpass  them.  If  the  people  of  the 
Cnited  States  will  surrender  the  comforts  and 
conveniences  which  they  individually  enjoy — ^if 
the  farmers  scattered  in  their  comfortable  homes 
on  the  bill-sides  and  plains  throughout  the  land 


Alexandria.  85 

Aaeient  and  modern  capltali.  Liberality  -jf  tfas  Ptolemiei. 

will  give  up  their  houses,  their  furniture,  theii 
carpets,  their  books,  and  the  privileges  of  their 
children,  and  then — withholding  from  the  pro- 
duce of  their  annual  toil  only  a  sufficient  reser 
vationto  sustain  them  and  their  families  through 
the  year,  in  a  life  like  that  of  a  beast  of  burden, 
spent  in  some  miserable  and  naked  hovel — send 
the  rest  to  some  hereditary  sovereign  residing 
upon  the  Atlantic  sea-board,  that  he  may  build 
with  the  proceeds  a  splendid  capital,  they  may 
have  an  Alexandria  now  that  will  infinitely  ex- 
ceed the  ancient  city  of  the  Ptolemies  in  splen- 
dor and  renovni.  The  nation,  too,  would,  in 
such  a  case,  pay  for  its  metropolis  the  same 
price,  precisely,  that  the  ancient  Egyptians  paid 
for  theirs. 

The  Ptolemies  expended  the  revenues  which 
they  raised  by  this  taxation  mainly  in  a  ver^ 
liberal  and  enlightened  manner,  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  purposes  which  they  had  in 
view.  The  building  of  the  Pharos,  the  removal 
of  the  statue  of  Serapis,  and  the  endowment  of 
the  Museum  and  the  libreury  were  great  ooncop- 
tions,  and  they  were  carried  into  effect  in  the 
most  complete  and  perfect  manner.  All  the 
other  operations  which  they  devised  and  exe- 
<*»it«d  for  the  extension  and  aggrandizement  of 


M  Clbopatra. 

9plaBd«r  mad  ranown  of  AlaxandrU.  Bar  grMt  rtrti 

the  city  were  conceived  and  executed  in  th« 
same  spirit  of  scientific  and  enlightened  liberaU 
ity.  Streets  were  opened ;  the  most  splendid 
palaces  were  built;  docks,  piers,  and  breakwa- 
ters were  constructed,  and  fortresses  and  towers 
were  armed  and  garrisoned.  Then  every  meann 
was  employed  to  attrtict  to  the  city  a  great  con- 
course from  all  the  most  highly-civilized  nations 
then  existing.  The  highest  inducements  were 
offered  to  merchants,  mechanics,  and  artisans 
to  make  the  city  their  abode.  Poets,  painters, 
sculptors,  and  scholars  of  every  nation  and  de- 
gree were  made  welcome,  and  every  facility 
was  afforded  them  for  the  prosecution  of  their 
various  pursuits.  These  plans  were  all  emi 
nently  successful.  Alexandria  rose  rapidly  to 
the  highest  consideration  and  importance ;  and, 
at  the  time  when  Cleopatra — bom  to  preside 
over  this  scene  of  magnificence  and  ^leudor— 
oame  upon  the  stage,  the  city  had  but  one  rivai 
in  the  world.     Tliat  rival  was  Rome. 


'   B.C.  80.]    Cleopatra's   Father.  g? 


(be  rlrtl  of  Alezaadrl*.  Bxteat  of  thalr  raik 


Chapter  IV 

Clkopatra's   Father. 

V/C7"HEN  the  time  was  approaching  in  which 
"  ~  Cleopatra  appeared  upon  the  stage,  Rome 
was  perhaps  the  only  city  that  could  be  consid- 
ered as  the  rival  of  Alexandria,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  mankind,  in  respect  to  interest  and  at- 
tractiveness as  a  capital.  In  one  respect,  Rome 
was  vastly  superior  to  the  Egyptian  metropolis, 
and  that  was  in  the  magnitude  and  extent  of 
the  military  power  which  it  wielded  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth.  Alexandria  ruled  over 
Egypt,  and  over  a  few  of  the  neighboring  coasts 
and  islands ;  but  in  the  course  of  the  three  cen  • 
turies  during  which  she  had  been  acquiring  her 
greatness  and  fame,  the  Roman  empire  had  ex- 
tended itself  over  almost  the  whole  civilized 
world.  Egypt  had  been,  thus  far,  too  remote 
to  be  directly  reached ;  but  the  affairs  of  Egypt 
itself  became  involved  at  length  with  the  opera^ 
tions  of  the  Roman  power,  about  the  time  of 
Cleopatra's  birth,  in  a  very  striking  and  peon- 
liar  manner ;  and  as  the  consequences  of  the 


S8  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  80 

Eztaniton  of  the  Rommn  empire.  Cleopatra's  blhm 

transaotion  were  the  means  of  turning  the  whole 
course  of  the  queen's  subsequent  history,  a  nar- 
ration of  it  is  necessary  to  a  proper  understand, 
ing  of  the  circumstances  under  which  she  com- 
menced her  career.  In  fact,  it  was  the  exten- 
sion of  the  Roman  empire  to  the  limits  of 
Egypt,  and  the  connections  which  thence  arose 
between  the  leading  Roman  generals  and  the 
Egyptian  sovereign,  which  have  made  the  story 
of  this  particular  queen  so  much  more  conspic- 
uous, as  an  object  of  interest  and  attention  to 
mankind,  than  that  of  any  other  one  of  the  ten 
Cleopatras  who  rose  successively  in  the  same 
royal  line. 

Ptolemy  Auletes,  Cleopatra's  father,  was  per- 
haps,  in  personal  character,  the  most  dissipated 
degraded,  and  corrupt  of  all  the  sovereigns  in 
the  dynasty.  He  spent  his  whole  time  in  vice 
and  debauchery.  The  only  honest  accomplish- 
ment that  he  seemed  to  possess  was  his  skill  in 
playing  upon  the  flute ;  of  this  he  was  very  vain. 
He  instituted  musical  contests,  in  which  the 
musical  performers  of  Alexandria  played  foi 
prizes  and  crowns ;  and  he  himself  was  accus> 
tomed  to  enter  the  lists  with  the  rest  as  a  com- 
petitor. The  people  of  Alexandria,  and  the 
world  in  general,  considered  such  pursuits  aa 


B.C.  58.]   Cleopatra's  Father.  i>9 

Ptolemy'i  ignoble  birth.  CasMr  and  Pompey 

these  wholly  unworthy  the  attention  of  the  rep. 
rosentative  of  so  illustrious  a  line  of  sovereigns 
and  the  abhorrence  which  they  felt  for  the  mon. 
arch's  vices  and  crimes  was  mingled  with  a  feel- 
ing of  contempt  for  the  meanness  of  his  ambi- 
tion. 

There  was  a  doubt  in  respect  to  his  title  to 
the  crown,  for  his  birth,  on  the  mother's  side, 
was  irregular  and  ignoble.  Instead,  however, 
of  attempting  to  confirm  and  secure  his  posses- 
sion of  power  by  a  vigorous  and  prosperous  ad- 
ministration of  the  government,  he  wholly  aban- 
doned all  concern  in  respect  to  the  course  of 
public  affairs ;  and  then,  to  guard  against  the 
danger  of  being  deposed,  he  conceived  the  plan 
of  getting  himself  recognized  at  Rome  as  one 
of  the  allies  of  the  Roman  people.  If  this  were 
once  done,  he  supposed  that  the  Roman  govern- 
ment would  feel  under  an  obligation  to  sustair 
him  on  his  throne  in  the  event  of  any  threat 
ened  danger. 

The  Roman  government  was  a  sort  of  repub- 
lic, and  the  two  most  powerful  men  in  the  state 
at  this  time  were  Pompey  and  Caesar.  Csesar 
was  in  the  ascendency  at  Rome  at  the  tima 
that  Ptolemy  made  his  application  for  an  alli- 
ance.    Pompey  was  absent  in  Asia  Minor,  bo- 


00  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  59 

Flotoiy  pwehaae*  the  aUUnM  of  Roma.        TaxM  to  rake  Hm  ib«i«7 

ing  engaged  in  proseouting  a  war  with  Mith* 
ludates,  a  very  powerful  monarch,  who  was  at 
that  time  resisting  the  Roman  power.  Caesar 
was  very  deeply  involved  in  debt,  and  was,  more 
over,  very  much  in  need  of  money,  not  only  foj 
relief  from  existing  embarrassments,  but  as  a 
moans  of  subsequent  expenditure,  to  enable  him 
to  accomplish  certain  great  political  schemof 
which  he  was  entertaining.  After  many  nego- 
tiations and  delays,  it  was  agreed  that  Ceesai 
would  exert  his  influence  to  secure  an  alliance 
between  the  Roman  people  and  Ptolemy,  on  con- 
dition that  Ptolemy  paid  him  the  sum  of  six 
thousand  talents,  equal  to  about  six  millions  of 
dollars.  A  part  of  the  money,  CeBsar  said,  was 
for  Pompey. 

The  title  of  ally  was  conferred,  and  Ptolemy 
undertook  to  raise  the  money  which  he  had 
promised  by  increasing  the  taxes  of  his  kingdom. 
The  measures,  however,  which  he  thus  adopt 
cd  for  the  purpose  of  making  himself  the  more 
fleoure  in  his  possession  of  the  throne,  proved 
to  be  the  means  of  overthrowing  him.  The  dis- 
content and  disaffection  of  his  people,  which  had 
been  strong  and  universal  before,  though  sup- 
pressed and  concealed,  broke  out  now  into  open 
violence.    That  there  should  be  laid  upon  theaif 


B.C.  68.]    Cleopatra's  Father.  91 

RiTfttH  m  AlMundrlft.  Ptolemy't  Dif^ 

in  addition  to  all  their  other  burdens,  these  new 
ojjpressions,  heavier  than  those  whibh  they  had 
endured  before,  and  exacted  for  such  a  purpose 
too,  W81S  not  to  be  endured.  To  be  compelled 
to  see  their  country  sold  on  any  terms  to  the 
Roman  people  was  sufficiently  hard  to  bear  ;  but 
to  be  forced  to  raise,  themselves,  and  pay  the 
price  of  the  transfer,  was  absolutely  intolerable. 
Alexandria  commenced  a  revolt.  Ptolemy  was 
not  a  man  to  act  decidedly  against  such  a  dem- 
onstration, or,  in  fact,  to  evince  either  calmness 
01  courage  in  any  emergency  whatever.  His 
first  thought  was  to  escape  from  Alexandria  to 
save  his  life.  His  second,  to  make  the  best  of 
his  way  to  Rome,  to  call  upon  the  Roman  peo- 
ple to  come  to  the  succor  of  their  ally ! 

Ptolemy  left  five  children  behind  him  in  his 
flight.  The  eldest  was  the  Princess  Berenice, 
who  had  already  reached  maturity.  The  sec- 
ond was  the  great  Cleopatra,  the  subject  of  this 
history.  Cleopatra  was,  at  this  time,  about 
eleven  years  old.  There  were  also  two  sons, 
but  they  were  very  young.  One  of  them  was 
named  Ptolemy. 

The  Alexandrians  determined  on  raising  Ber- 
enice to  the  throne  in  her  father's  place,  as  soon 
*.»»  his  flight  was  known.     Thev  thought  that 


^  Cleopatra.  [li.C.58 

B«raBlM  Her  ourrUft  with  Baleseni 

the  sons  were  too  young  to  attempt  to  rei^n  in 
such  an  emergency,  as  it  was  very  probable 
that  Auletes,  the  father,  would  attempt  to  re- 
cover his  kingdom.  Berenice  very  readily  ao- 
cepted  the  honor  and  power  which  were  offered 
to  her.  She  established  herself  in  her  father's 
palace,  and  began  her  reign  in  great  magnifi- 
cence and  splendor.  In  process  of  time  she 
thought  that  her  position  would  be  strengthened 
by  a  marriage  with  a  royal  prince  from  some 
neighboring  realm.  She  first  sent  embassadors 
to  make  proposals  to  a  prince  of  Syria  named 
Antiochus.  The  embassadors  came  back,  bring- 
ing word  that  Antiochus  was  dead,  but  that  he 
had  a  brother  named  Seleuous,  upon  whom  the 
succession  fell.  Berenice  then  sent  them  back 
to  make  the  same  offers  to  him.  He  accepted 
the  proposals,  came  to  Egypt,  and  he  and  Ber- 
enice were  married.  After  trying  him  for  a 
while,  Berenice  found  that,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  she  did  not  like  him  as  a  husband,  and, 
accordingly,  she  caused  him  to  be  strangled. 

At  length,  after  various  other  intrigues  and 
much  secret  management,  Berenice  succeeded 
in  a  second  negotiation,  and  married  a  prince, 
or  a  pretended  prince,  from  some  country  of 
Asia  Minor,  whose  name  was  Archelaus.     Sht 


B.C  58.]    Cleopatra's  Father.  93 

Cleopatra's  early  life.  Ptolemy  aa  object  of  contempt 

was  better  pleased  with  this  second  husband 
than  she  had  been  with  the  first,  and  she  began, 
at  last,  to  feel  somewhat  settled  and  ostablish- 
ftd  on  her  throne,  and  to  be  prepared,  as  she 
thought,  to  offer  effectual  resistance  to  her  fa- 
ther in  case  he  should  ever  attempt  to  re- 
turn. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  the  scenes,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  influences  which  might  be  ex- 
pected to  prevail  in  the  families  of  such  a  father 
and  such  a  sister,  that  Cleopatra  spent  those 
years  of  life  in  which  the  character  is  formed. 
During  all  these  revolutions,  and  exposed  to  all 
these  exhibitions  of  licentious  wickedness,  and 
of  unnatural  cruelty  and  crime,  she  was  grow- 
ing up  in  the  royal  palaces  a  spirited  and  beau- 
tiful, but  indulged  and  neglected  child, 
■""fii  the  mean  time,  Auletes,  the  father,  went 
on  toward  Rome.  So  far  as  his  character  and 
his  story  were  known  among  the  surrounding 
nations,  he  was  the  object  of  universal  obloquy, 
both  on  account  of  his  previous  career  of  de- 
grading vice,  and  now,  still  more,  for  this  igno- 
ble flight  from  the  difficulties  in  which  his  vice« 
and  crimes  had  involved  him. 

He  stopped,  c>n  the  way,  at  the  island  of 
RhfKles.     It  happened  that  Cato,  the  great  Ro" 


94  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  58 

PtoleniT'i  tnterriew  with  Cato.  Chwaetnr  of  Cito 

man  philosopher  and  general,  was  at  Rhodes  al 
this  time.  Cato  was  a  man  of  stem,  unbend- 
ing virtue,  and  of  great  influence  at  that  period 
in  public  affairs.  Ptolemy  sent  a  messenger  tc 
iiform  Cato  of  his  arrival,  supposing,  of  course, 
that  the  Roman  general  would  hasten,  on  hear- 
ing of  the  fact,  to  pay  his  respects  to  so  great  a 
personage  as  he,  a  king  of  Egypt — a  Ptolemy 
— though  suffering  under  a  temporary  reverse 
of  fortune.  Ca!to  directed  the  messenger  to  re- 
ply that,  so  far  as  he  was  aware,  he  had  no  par- 
ticular business  with  Ptolemy.  "  Say,  how- 
ever, to  the  king,"  he  added,  "  that,  if  he  heis 
any  business  with  me,  he  may  call  and  see  me, 
if  he  pleases." 

Ptolemy  was  obliged  to  suppress  his  resent- 
ment and  submit.  He  thought  it  very  essen- 
tial to  the  success  of  his  plans  that  he  should 
see  Cato,  and  secure,  if  possible,  his  interest  and 
co-operation  ;  and  he  consequently  made  prepa- 
rations for  paying,  instead  of  receiving,  the  via 
it,  intending  to  go  in  the  greatest  royal  state 
that  he  could  command.  He  accordingly  ap- 
peared at  Cato's  lodgings  on  the  following  day, 
magnificently  dressed,  and  accompanied  by 
many  attendants.  Cato,  who  was  dressed  in 
^e  plainest  and  most  simple  maimer,  and  whos« 


B.C  58.]    Cleopatra's  Father.  95 

*>toiemy's  receptioB.  Cato  •  adrlee  to  him 

apartment  was  furnished  in  a  style  correspond- 
ing with  the  severity  of  his  character,  did  not 
even  rise  when  the  king  entered  the  room.  He 
simply  pointed  with  his  hand,  and  bade  the  vis- 
itor take  a  seat. 

Ptolemy  began  to  make  a  statement  of  his 
case,  with  a  view  to  obtaining  Gate's  influence 
with  the  Roman  people  to  induce  them  to  in- 
terpose in  his  behalf.  Cato,  however,  far  from 
evincing  any  disposition  to  espouse  his  visitor's 
cause,  censured  him,  in  the  plainest  terms,  for 
having  abandoned  his  proper  position  in  his  own 
kingdom,  to  go  and  make  himself  a  victim  and 
a  prey  for  the  insatiable  avarice  of  the  Roman 
leaders.  "You  can  do  nothing  at  Rome,"  he 
said,  "  but  by  the  influence  of  bribes  ;  and  ai^ 
the  resources  of  Egypt  will  not  be  enough  tc 
satisfy  the  Roman  greediness  for  money."  He 
concluded  by  recommending  him  to  go  back  tc 
Alexandria,  and  rely  for  his  hopes  of  extrication 
from  the  difficulties  which  surrounded  him  on 
the  exorcise  of  his  own  energy  and  resolution 
there. 

Ptolemy  was  greatly  abashed  at  this  rebnlS^ 
but,  on  consultation  with  his  attendants  and 
followers,  it  was  decided  to  be  too  late  now  to 
return.     The  whole  party  accordingly  re-ena- 


96  Cleopatra.  [B.C.5b 

Ptolemy  •rrlrea  at  Rom«.  Hla  application  to  Pompey 

barked  on  board  their  galleys,  and  pursued  theii 
way  to  Rome. 

Ptolemy  found,  on  his  arrival  at  the  city,  that 
Cojsar  was  absent  in  Gaul,  while  Pompey,  on 
the  other  hand,  who  had  returned  victorious 
from  his  campaigns  against  Mithradates,  was 
now  the  great  leaded  of  influence  and  power  at 
the  Capitol.  This  change  of  circumstances  was 
not,  however,  particularly  unfavorable ;  for  Ptol- 
emy was  on  friendly  terms  with  Pompey,  as  he 
had  been  with  Caesar.  He  had  assisted  him  in 
his  wars  with  Mithradates  by  sending  him  a 
squadron  of  horse,  in  pursuance  of  his  policy  of 
cultivating  friendly  relations  with  the  Roman 
people  by  every  means  in  his  power.  Besides, 
Pompey  had  received  a  part  of  the  money  which 
Ptolemy  had  paid  to  Csesar  as  the  price  of  the 
Roman  alliance,  and  was  to  receive  his  share 
of  the  rest  in  case  Ptolemy  should  ever  bo  re- 
stored. Pompey  was  accordingly  interested  in 
favoring  the  royal  fugitive's  cause.  He  re- 
ceived him  in  his  palace,  entertained  him  in 
magnificent  style,  and  took  immediate  meas- 
ures for  bringing  his  cause  before  the  Roman 
•enatO;  urging  upon  that  body  the  adoption  of 
immediate  and  vigorous  measures  hr  effecting 
•w  restoration,   as   an  ally  whom  thev  wer^* 


B.C.58.]   Cleopatra's  Father.  97 

AsdoD  of  the  Roman  lenato  Plant  for  restoring  Ptolenj 

bound  to  protect  against  his  rebellions  snb- 
jeots. 

There  was  at  first  some  opposition  in  the 
Roman  senate  against  espousing  the  cause  of 
•uch  a  man,  but  it  was  soon  put  down,  being 
overpowered  in  part  by  Pompey's  authority, 
EUid  in  part  silenced  by  Ptolemy's  promises  and 
bribes.  The  senate  determined  to  restore  the 
king  to  his  throne,  and  began  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  carrying  the  measure  into  effect. 

The  Roman  provinces  nearest  to  Egypt  were 
Cilioia  and  Syria,  countries  situated  on  the  east- 
ern and  northeastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  north  of  Judea.  The  forces  stationed  in 
these  provinces  would  be,  of  course,  the  most 
convenient  for  furnishing  the  necessary  troops 
for  the  expedition.  The  province  of  Cilicia  was 
under  the  command  of  the  consul  Lentulus. 
Lentulus  was  at  this  time  at  Rome ;  he  had 
repaired  to  the  capital  for  some  temporary  pur- 
pose, leaving  his  province  and  the  troops  sta- 
tioned there  under  the  command,  for  the  time, 
af  a  sort  of  lieutenant  general  named  Gabinius. 
It  was  concluded  that  this  Lentulus,  with  his 
Syrian  forces,  should  undertake  the  task  of  re- 
instating Ptolemy  on  his  throne. 

While  these  olans  and  arrangements  were 

J6— 7 


98  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  57, 

Meaaare*  of  Berenlca.  Oer  emoufago  »o  Rom* 

yet  immature,  a  circumstance  occurrfd  which 
threatened,  for  a  time,  wholly  to  defeat  them. 
It  seems  that  when  Cleopatra'a  father  first  left 
Egypt,  he  had  caused  a  report  to  be  oirculateJ 
ti«ere  that  he  had  been  killed  in  the  revolt 
The  object  of  this  stratagem  was  to  cover  and 
conceal  his  flight.  The  government  of  Berenice 
soon  discovered  the  truth,  and  learned  that  the 
fagitive  had  gone  in  the  direction  of  Rome 
They  immediately  inferred  that  he  was  going 
to  appeal  to  the  Roman  people  for  aid,  and  they 
determined  that,  if  that  wore  the  case,  the  Ro- 
man people,  before  deciding  in  hie  favor,  should 
have  the  opportunity  to  hear  their  side  of  the 
story  as  well  as  his.  They  accordingly  made 
preparations  at  once  for  sending  a  very  impos- 
ing embassage  to  Rome.  The  deputation  con- 
sisted of  more  than  a  hundred  persons.  The 
object  of  Berenice's  government  in  sending  so 
large  a  number  was  not  only  to  evince  their 
respect  for  the  Roman  people,  and  their  sense 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  question  at  issue,  but 
aiso  to  guard  against  any  efforts  that  Ptolemy 
might  make  to  intercept  the  embassage  on  the 
way,  or  to  buy  off  the  members  of  it  by  bribes. 
The  number,  however,  large  a*  it  was,  proved 
iasnHioient  to  accomplish  this  purpose.     The 


B.C.  57.]    Cleopatra's  Father.  Hi? 

Ptolemy't  treachery.  Iti  eonaeqoenoM 

whole  Roman  world  was  at  this  time  in  such  a 
condition  of  disorder  and  violence,  in  the  hands 
oi  the  desperate  and  reckless  military  leaders 
who  then  bore  sway,  that  there  were  every  where 
abundant  facilities  for  the  commission  of  any 
conceivable  crime.  Ptolemy  contrived,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  fierce  partisans  who  had  es- 
poused his  cause,  and  who  were  deeply  interest- 
ed in  his  success  on  account  of  the  rewards 
which  were  promised  them,  to  waylay  and  de- 
stroy a  large  proportion  of  this  company  before 
they  reached  Rome.  Some  were  assassinated ; 
some  were  poisoned ;  some  were  tampered  with 
and  bought  off  by  bribes.  A  small  remnant 
reached  Rome;  but  they  were  so  intimidated 
by  the  dangers  which  surrounded  them,  that 
they  did  not  dare  to  take  any  public  action  in 
respect  to  the  business  which  had  been  com- 
mitted to  their  charge,  Ptolemy  began  to  con- 
gratulate himself  on  having  completely  circum- 
rented  his  daughter  in  her  eiforts  to  protect 
herself  against  his  designs. 

Instead  of  that,  however,  it  soon  proved'  tliat 
the  effect  of  this  atrocious  treachery  was  exact- 
ly the  contrary  of  what  its  perpetrators  had  ox- 
peoted  The  knowledge  of  the  facts  beotme 
spradnaily  extended  among  the  people  of  Rome 


100  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  57 

Oppoddon  to  Ptolemjr.  The  prophaey 

and  it  awakened  a  universal  indignation.  Th«j 
party  who  had  been  originally  opposed  to  Ptol 
emy's  cause  seized  the  opportunity  to  renew 
their  opposition ;  and  they  gained  so  muoh 
strength  from  the  general  odium  which  Ptol- 
emy's crimes  had  awakened,  that  Pompey  found 
it  almost  impossible  to  sustain  his  cause. 

At  length  the  party  opposed  to  Ptolemy 
found,  or  pretended  to  find,  in  certain  sacred 
books,  called  the  Sibylline  Oracles,  which  were 
kept  in  the  custody  of  the  priests,  and  were  sup- 
posed to  contain  prophetic  intimations  of  the 
will  of  Heaven  in  respect  to  the  conduct  of  pub 
lio  affairs,  the  following  passage : 

'^  If  a  king  of  Egypt  should  apply  to  you 
for  aid,  treat  him  in  a  friendly  manner,  but  do 
not  furnish  him  with  troops  ;  for  if  you  do,  you 
wilt  incur  great  danger." 

This  made  new  difficulty  for  Ptolemy's 
friends.  They  attempted,  at  first,  to  evade  this 
inspired  injunction  by  denying  the  reality  of  it 
There  was  no  such  passage  to  be  found,  they 
»aid.  It  was  all  an  invention  of  their  enemiea 
This  point  seems  to  have  been  overruled,  and 
then  they  attempted  to  give  the  passage  soma 
other  than  the  obvious  interpretation.  Finally 
they  maintained  that,  although  it  prohibited 


B.C. 55.J    Clbopatri's  Fathee,  101 

4nMapU  to  evade  the  oracle.  Gablniiu  undertake*  the  eavac 

their  furnishiug  Ptolemy  himself  with  troops,  i! 
did  not  forbid  their  sending  an  armed  force  into 
Egypt  under  leaders  of  their  own.  That  they 
oould  certainly  do ;  and  then,  when  the  rebell- 
ion was  suppressed,  and  Berenice's  government 
overthrown,  they  could  invite  Ptolemy  to  return 
to  his  kingdom  and  resume  his  crown  in  a 
peaceful  manner.  This,  they  alleged,  would  not 
b«  "furnishing  him  with  troops,"  and,  of  course, 
would  not  be  disobeying  the  oracle. 

These  attempts  to  evade  the  direction  of  the 
oracle  on  the  part  of  Ptolemy's  friends,  only 
made  the  debates  and  dissensions  between  them 
and  his  enemies  more  violent  than  ever.  Pom- 
pey  made  every  effort  in  his  power  to  aid  Ptol- 
emy's cause ;  but  Lentulus,  after  long  hesita- 
tion and  delay,  decided  that  it  would  not  be  safe 
for  him  to  embark  in  it.  At  length,  however, 
Gabinius,  the  lieutenant  who  commanded  in 
Syria,  was  induced  to  undertake  the  enterprise 
On  certain  promises  which  he  received  from 
Ptolemy,  to  be  performed  in  case  he  succeeded, 
and  with  a  certain  encouragement,  not  very  le- 
gal or  regular,  which  Pompey  gave  him,  in  re- 
spect to  the  employment  of  the  Roman  troops 
under  his  command,  he  resolved  to  march  to 
Egypt.     His  route,  of  cciurse,  would  lav  along 


lOa  Clkopatra.  [B.C.Oi 

Itefc  AatDo^.  Hl«  blMtcnj  and  charaetor 

the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and 
through  the  desert,  to  Pelusium,  which  has  al. 
ready  been  mentioned  as  the  frontier  town  on 
this  side  of  Egypt.  From  Pelusium  he  was  to 
march  through  the  heart  of  the  Delta  to  Alex- 
andria, and,  if  successful  in  his  invasion,  over- 
throw the  governmertt  of  Berenice  and  Arohe- 
laus,  and  then,  inviting  Ptolemy  to  return,  ro- 
mstate  him  on  the  throne. 

In  the  prosecution  of  this  dangerous  enter- 
prise, Gabinius  relied  strongly  on  the  assist- 
ance of  a  very  remarkable  man,  then  his  second 
in  command,  who  afterward  acted  a  very  im- 
portant part  in  the  subsequent  history  of  Cleo- 
patra. His  name  was  Mark  Antony.  Antony 
was  born  in  Rome,  of  a  very  distinguished  fam- 
ily, but  his  father  died  when  he  was  very  young, 
and  being  left  subsequently  much  to  himself,  he 
became  a  very  wild  and  dissolute  young  man. 
He  wasted  the  property  which  his  father  had 
left  him  in  folly  and  vice ;  and  then  goins  on 
desperately  in  the  same  career,  he  soon  incurred 
anormous  debts,  and  involved  himself,  in  conse- 
quence, in  inextricable  difficulties.  His  cred- 
itors continually  harassed  him  with  importuni- 
ties f<Mr  money,  and  with  suits  at  law  to  compel 
payments  whiob  Ire  had  no  means  of  makinj^ 


B.C.55.]    Cleopatra's  Father.  103 

inUmj  In  Qreeoe.  He  Joins  Okbinlns. 

He  was  likewise  incessantly  pursued  by  the 
hostility  of  the  many  enemies  that  he  had  made 
in  the  city  by  his  violence  and  his  crimes.  At 
length  he  absconded,  and  went  to  Greece. 

Here  Gabinius,  when  on  his  way  to  Syria, 
met  him,  and  invited  him  to  join  his  army 
rather  than  to  remain  where  he  was  in  idleness 
and  destitution  Antony,  who  was  as  proud 
and  lofty  in  spirit  as  he  was  degraded  in  mor- 
als and  condition,  refused  to  do  this  unless  Ga- 
binius would  give  him  a  command.  Gabinius 
saw  in  the  daring  and  reckless  energy  which 
Antony  manifested  the  indications  of  the  class 
of  qualities  which  in  those  days  made  a  suc- 
cessful soldier,  and  acceded  to  his  terms.  He 
gave  him  the  command  of  his  cavalry.  Antony 
distinguished  himself  in  the  Syrian  campaigns 
that  followed,  and  was  now  full  of  eagerness  to 
engage  in  this  Egyptian  enterprise.  In  fact,  it 
was  mainly  his  zeal  and  enthusiasm  to  embark 
in  the  undertaking  which  was  the  means  of  de 
ciding  Gabinius  to  consent  to  Ptolemy's  pro- 
Dosals. 

The  danger  and  difficulty  which  they  con- 
sidered as  most  to  be  apprehended  in  the  whole 
expedition  was  the  getting  across  the  desert  tc 
Pelnsinm.     In   fact,  the  great  protection  of 


.04  Cleopatra.  ^B.C.55 

Danger  of  crouing  the  deaerto.  Armie*  diwtRqred 

Egypt  had  always  been  her  isolation.  The 
trackless  and  desolate  sands,  being  wholly  des- 
titute of  water,  and  utterly  void,  could  be  trav- 
ersed, even  by  a  caravan  of  peaceful  travelers, 
only  with  great  difficulty  and  danger.  For  ax 
army  to  attempt  to  cross  them,  exposed,  as  th« 
troops  would  necessarily  be,  to  the  assaults  of 
enemies  who  might  advance  to  meet  them  ou 
the  way,  and  sure  of  encountering  a  terrible 
opposition  from  fresh  and  vigorous  bands  when 
they  should  arrive — wayworn  and  exhausted  by 
the  physical  hardships  of  the  way — at  the  bor- 
ders of  the  inhabited  country,  was  a  desperate 
undertaking.  Many  instances  occurred  in  an- 
cient times  in  which  vast  bodies  of  troops,  in 
attempting  marches  over  the  deserts  by  which 
Egypt  was  surrounded,  were  wholly  destroyed 
by  famine  or  thirst,  or  overwhelmed  by  storms 
of  sand.* 

These  difficulties  and  dangers,  however,  did 
not  at  all  intimidate  Mark  Antony,  The  an- 
ticipation, in  fact,  of  the  glory  of  surmounting 
them  was  one  of  the  main  inducements  which 
led  him  to  embark  in  the  enterprise.  The  per- 
ils of  the  desert  constituted  one  of  the  charmt 

*  For  an  account  of  one  of  these  diMiton,  with  an  engr>«Y 
faiF  UlostntiTe  of  the  scene  lee  the  Histort  ov  Ctics 


B.C  58.]    Cleopatra's  Father.  106 

Mark  Antony'i  character  Hi*  perKaal  t^earaaeei 

which  made  the  expedition  so  attractive.  He 
placed  himself,  therefore,  at  the  head  of  his 
troop  of  cavalry,  and  set  off  across  the  sands  in 
advance  of  Gabinius,  to  take  Pelusium,  in  or- 
der thus  to  open  a  way  for  the  main  body  of  the 
army  into  Egypt.  Ptolemy  accompanied  An- 
tony.    Gabinius  was  to  follow. 

With  all  his  faults,  to  call  them  by  no  se- 
verer name,  Mark  Antony  possessed  certain 
great  excellences  of  character.  He  was  ardent, 
but  then  he  was  cool,  collected,  and  sagacious ; 
and  there  was  a  certain  frank  and  manly  gener> 
osity  continually  evincing  itself  in  his  conduct 
and  character  which  made  him  a  great  favorite 
among  his  men.  He  was  at  this  time  about 
twenty-eight  years  old,  of  a  tall  and  manly 
form,  and  of  an  expressive  and  intellectual  cast 
of  countenance.  His  forehead  was  high,  his 
nose  aquiline,  and  his  eyes  full  of  vivacity  and 
life.  He  was  accustomed  to  dress  in  a  very 
plain  and  careless  manner,  and  he  assumed  an 
air  of  the  utmost  familiarity  and  freedom  in  his 
intercourse  with  his  soldiers.  He  would  join 
them  in  their  sports,  joke  with  them,  and  good- 
naturedly  receive  their  jokes  in  return;  and 
take  his  meals,  standing  with  them  around 
their  rude  tables,  in  the  open  field.    Such  hab- 


i06  Clbopatka.  [B.C.  55 

liarali  aeroM  the  daMrt.  Pelaaiiuii  takea 

its  of  intercourse  with  his  men  in  a  commander 
of  ordinary  character  would  have  been  fatal  to 
his  ascendency  over  them;  but  in  Mark  An. 
tony's  case,  these  frank  and  familiar  manners 
seemed  only  to  make  the  military  genius  and  the 
intellectual  power  which  he  possessed  the  more 
conspicuous  and  the^more  universally  admired. 
Antony  conducted  his  troop  of  horsemen 
across  the  desert  in  a  very  safe  and  speedy 
manner,  and  arrived  before  Pelusium.  The 
city  was  not  prepared  to  resist  him.  It  surren- 
dered at  once,  and  the  whole  garrison  f^sll  into 
his  hands  as  prisoners  of  war.  Ptolemy  de* 
manded  that  they  should  all  be  immediately 
killed.  They  were  rebels,  he  said,  and,  as  such, 
ought  to  be  put  to  death.  Antony,  however, 
as  might  have  been  expected  from  his  charac- 
ter, absolutely  refused  to  allow  of  any  such  bar- 
barity. Ptolemy,  since  the  po^er  was  not  yet 
m  his  hands,  was  compelled  to  submit,  and  to 
postpone  gratifying  the  spirit  of  vengeance  which 
had  so  long  been  slumbering  in  his  breast  to  a 
future  day.  He  could  the  more  patiently  sub- 
mit to  this  necessity,  since  it  appeared  that  the 
day  of  his  complete  and  final  triumph  over  hif 
daughter  and  all  her  adherent*  was  now  verj 
.agh  at  hand. 


B.C.  55.]     Cleopatra's  Fathee.         109 

March  •erow  the  Delta.  Saooeu  of  the  Romana 


In  fact,  Berenice  and  her  government,  when 
they  heard  of  the  arrival  of  Antony  and  Ptol- 
emy at  Pelusium,  of  the  fall  of  that  city,  and 
of  the  approach  of  Gabinius  with  an  over- 
whelming force  of  Roman  soldiers,  were  struck 
with  dismay.  Archelaus,  the  husband  of  Bere- 
nice, had  been,  in  former  years,  a  personal  friend 
of  Antony's.  Antony  considered,  in  fact,  that 
they  were  friends  still,  though  required  by  what 
the  historian  calls  their  duty  to  light  each  other 
for  the  possession  of  the  kingdom.  The  govern- 
ment of  Berenice  raised  an  army.  Archelaus 
took  command  of  it,  and  advanced  to  meet  the 
enemy.  In  the  mean  time,  Gabinius  arrived 
with  the  main  body  of  the  Roman  troops,  and 
commenced  his  march,  in  conjunction  with  An- 
tony, toward  the  capital.  As  they  were  obliged 
to  make  a  circuit  to  the  southward,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  inlets  and  lagoons  which,  on  the  north- 
em  coast  of  Egypt,  penetrate  for  some  distance 
into  the  land,  their  course  led  them  through  the 
heart  of  the  Delta.  Many  battles  were  fought, 
the  Romans  every  where  gaining  the  victory. 
The  Egyptian  soldiers  were,  in  fact,  discon* 
tented  and  mutinous,  perhaps,  in  part,  because 
they  considered  the  government  on  the  side  of 
t^hieh  they  were  compelled  to  engage  as,  after 


110  Clkopatka.  \R.C.M 

Berenle*  •  pri«on«r.  fate  of  Arobakni 

all,  a  usurpation.  At  length  a  great  final  bat- 
tle was  fought,  which  settled  the  controversy. 
Arohelaus  was  slain  upon  the  field,  and  Bert- 
nice  was  taken  prisoner ;  their  government  wa« 
wholly  overthrown,  and  the  way  was  opened 
for  the  march  of  the  Roman  armies  to  Alexan- 
dria. 

Mark  Antony,  when  judged  by  our  standards, 
was  certainly,  as  well  as  Ptolemy,  a  depraved 
and  vicious  man;  but  his  depravity  was  of  a 
very  different  type  from  that  of  Cleopatra's  fa- 
ther. The  difference  in  the  men,  in  one  re- 
spect, was  very  clearly  evinced  by  the  objects 
toward  which  their  interest  and  attention  were 
respectively  turned  after  this  great  battle. 
While  the  contest  had  been  going  on,  the  king 
and  queen  of  Egypt,  Archelaus  and  Berenice, 
wore,  of  course,  in  the  view  both  of  Antony  and 
Pt«>lemy,  the  two  most  conspicuous  personag*^ 
in  the  array  of  their  enemies;  and  while  An 
tony  would  naturally  watch  with  the  greatest 
interest  the  fate  of  his  friend,  the  king,  Ptole- 
my,  would  as  naturally  follow  with  the  highest 
concern  the  destiny  of  his  daughter.  Accord- 
ingly, when  the  battle  was  over,  while  the  mind 
of  Ptolemy  might,  as  we  should  naturally  ex- 
peot,  be  chiefly  oooupied  by  the  fact  that  hi« 


B.C.55.|    Cleopatra's  Father.  Ill 

Orlof  of  Antony.  Unnatural  Joy  of  Ptolemy 

daughter  was  made  a  captive,  Antony's,  we 
might  suppose,  would  be  engrossed  by  the  tid- 
ings that  his  friend  had  been  slain. 

The  one  rejoiced  and  the  other  mourned 
Antony  sought  for  the  body  of  his  friend  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  when  it  was  found,  he  gave 
himself  wholly  to  the  work  of  providing  for  it  a 
.Host  magnificent  burial.  He  seemed,  at  the  fu- 
neral, to  lament  the  death  of  his  ancient  com- 
rade with  real  and  unaffected  grief.  Ptolemy, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  overwhelmed  with  joy 
at  finding  his  daughter  his  captive.  The  long- 
wished-for  hour  for  the  gratification  of  his  re- 
venge had  come  at  last,  and  the  first  use  which 
he  made  of  his  power  when  he  wj^s  put  in  pos- 
session  of  it  at  Alexandria  wrf  to  order  hki 
daughter  to  be  beheaded 


112  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  50. 


Chapter  V. 

Accession  to  the  Thrgnr. 

\  T  the  time  wheij  the  unnatural  quarrel  bo- 
■^^  tween  Cleopatra's  father  and  her  sister 
was  working  its  way  toward  its  dreadful  term- 
ination, as  related  in  the  last,  chapter,  she  her- 
self  was  residing  at  the  royal  palace  in  Alexan- 
dria, a  blooming  ami  bftfliitifnl^  girl  of  about  fif- 
teen. Fortunately  for  her,  she  was  too  young 
to  take  any  active  part  personally  in  the  con- 
tention. Her  two  brothers  were  still  younger 
than  herself.  They  all  three  remained,  there- 
fore, in  the  royal  palaces,  quiet  spectators  of  the 
revolution,  without  being  either  benefited  or  in- 
jured by  it.  It  is  singular  that  the  name  of 
both  the  boys  was  Ptolemy. 

The  excitement  in  the  city  of  Alexandria  was 
intense  and  universal  when  the  Roman  army 
entered  it  to  reinstate  Cleopatra's  father  upon 
his  throne.  Avery  large  portion  of  the  inhabit 
ants  were  pleased  with  having  the  former  king 
restored.  In  fact,  it  appears,  by  a  retrospect  of 
the  history  of  kings,  that  when  a  legitimate  h» 


B.C. 55.]  The  Accession.  113 

Ptidfltny  reetored  AeqiilMc«nc«  of  tha  people. 

reditary  sovereign  or  dynasty  is  deposed  and  ex- 
pelled by  a  rebellious  population,  no  matter  how 
intolerable  may  have  been  the  tyranny,  or  how 
atrocious  the  crimes  by  which  the  patience  of 
the  subject  was  exhausted,  the  lapse  of  a  very 
few  years  is  ordinarily  sufficient  to  produce  a 
very  general  readiness  to  acquiesce  in  a  restora- 
tion ;  and  in  this  particular  instance  there  had 
been  no  such  superiority  in  the  government  of 
Berenice,  during  the  period  while  her  power 
continued,  over  that  of  her  father,  which  she 
had  displaced,  as  to  make  this  case  an  excep- 
tion to  the  general  rule.  The  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple, therefore — all  those,  especially,  who  had  tak- 
en no  active  part  in  Berenice's  government — 
were  ready  to  welcome  Ptolemy  back  to  his  cap- 
ital.  Those  who  had  taken  such  a  part  were 
all  summarily  executed  by  Ptolemy's  orders. 

There  was,  of  course,  a  great  excitement 
throughout  the  city  on  the  arrival  of  the  Roman 
army.  All  the  foreign  influence  and  power 
which  had  been  exercised  in  Egypt  thus  far, 
and  almost  all  the  officers,  whether  civil  or  mil- 
itary, had  been  Greek.  The  coming  of  the  Ro- 
mans was  the  introduction  of  a  new  element  of 
interest  to  add  to  the  endless  variety  of  excit^v 

menta  which  animated  the  capital. 

1&-8 


114  Cleopatra.  [B.C.56 

f MtlTltlM  Popnlulty  of  AnUmj 

The  restoration  of  Ptolemy  was  celebrated 
with  games,  spectacles,  and  festivities  of  every 
kind,  and,  of  course,  next  to  the  king  himself, 
the  chief  center  of  interest  and  attraction  in  all 
these  public  rejoicings  would  be  the  distin- 
guished  foreign  generals  by  whose  instrument- 
ality the  end  had  been  gained. 

Mark  Antony  was  a  special  object  of  public 
regard  and  admiration  at  the  time.  His  eccen- 
tric manners,  his  frank  and  honest  air,  his  Ro- 
man simplicity  of  dress  and  demeanor,  made 
him  conspicuous ;  and  his  interposition  to  save 
the  lives  of  the  captured  garrison  of  Pelusiura, 
and  the  interest  which  he  took  in  rendering 
such  distinguished  funeral  honors  to  the  enemy 
whom  his  army  had  slain  in  battle,  impressed 
Ine  people  with  the  idea  of  a  certain  nobleness 
and  magnanimity  in  his  character,  which,  in 
ffpite  of  his  faults,  made  him  an  object  of  gen- 
eral admiration  and  applause.  The  very  faults 
oT  such  a  man  assume  often,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  the  guise  and  semblance  of  virtues.  For 
example,  it  is  related  of  Antony  that,  at  one 
time  in  the  course  of  his  life,  having  a  desire  to 
make  a  present  of  some  kind  to  a  certain  per- 
son, in  requital  for  a  favor  which  he  had  re- 
ceived from  him,  he  ordered  his  treasurer  t^  send 


B.C.  55.]         The  Accessiow.  115 

iakmj't  gcBcrodty.  AaaedotK 

A  sum  of  money  to  his  friend — and  named  for  the 
snm  to  be  sent  an  amount  considerably  greater 
than  was  really  required  under  the  circum- 
stances  of  the  case — acting  thus,  as  he  often 
did,  under  the  influence  of  a  blind  and  uncai- 
culating  generosity.  The  treasurer,  more  pru- 
dent than  his  master,  wished  to  reduce  the 
amount,  but  he  did  not  dare  directly  to  propose 
a  reduction ;  so  he  counted  out  the  money,  and 
laid  it  in  a  pile  in  a  place  where  Antony  was 
to  pass,  thinking  that  when  Antony  saw  the 
amount,  he  would  perceive  that  it  was  too  great. 
Antony,  in  passing  by,  asked  what  money  that 
was.  The  treasurer  said  that  it  was  the  suni 
that  he  had  ordered  to  be  sent  as  a  present  to 
such  a  person,  naming  the  individual  intended. 
Antony  was  quick  to  perceive  the  object  of  the 
treasurer's  maneuver.  He  immediately  replied, 
"  Ah !  is  that  all  ?  I  thought  the  sum  I  named 
would  make  a  better  appearance  than  that; 
•end  him  double  the  amount." 

To  determine,  under  such  circumstances  as 
these,  to  double  an  extravag  mce  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  thwarting  the  honest  attempt  of  a 
faithful  servant  to  diminish  it,  made,  too,  in  so 
cautious  and  delicate  a  way,  is  most  certainly 
a  fanlt      But  it  is  one  of  those  faults  for  which 


116  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  65 

Aatony  ud  Cleop*tra.  Antony  return*  to  Ilr>ma 

the  world,  in  all  ages,  will  persist  in  admiring 
and  praising  the  perpetrator. 

In  a  word,  Antony  became  the  object  of  gen- 
eral attention  and  favor  during  his  continuance 
et  Alexandria.  Whether  he  particularly  at- 
tracted CleopatraV  attention  at  this  time  or  not 
does  not  appear.  She,  however,  strongly  at- 
tracted his.  He  admired  her  blooming  beauty, 
her  sprightliness  and  wit,  and  her  various  ac- 
complishments. She  was  still,  however,  so 
young — being  but  fifteen  years  of  age,  while 
Antony  was  nearly  thirty — ^that  she  probably 
made  no  very  serious  impression  upon  him.  A 
short  time  after  this,  Antony  went  back  to 
Rome,  and  did  not  see  Cleopatra  again  for 
many  years. 

When  the  two  Roman  generals  went  away 
from  Alexandria,  they  left  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  army  behind  them,  under  Pi  olemy's 
command,  to  aid  him  in  keeping  possession  of 
his  throne.  Antony  returned  to  Rome.  Ho 
had  acquired  great  renown  by  his  march  across 
the  desert,  and  by  the  successful  accomplish* 
ment  of  the  invasion  of  Egypt  and  the  restora- 
tion of  Ptolemy.  His  funds,  too,  were  replen- 
ished by  the  vast  sums  paid  to  him  and  to  Ga> 
biaiu«  by  Ptolemy.     The  amount  which  Ptol* 


B.0.55,]  The  Accession.  117 

ndftaxj't  mwdan.  Pompey  and  Cnaar 

emy  is  said  to  have  agreed  to  pay  as  the  price 
of  his  restoration  was  two  thousand  talents— 
equal  to  ten  millions  of  dollars — a  sum  which 
shows  on  how  great  a  scale  the  operations  of  i 
this  celebrated  campaign  were  conducted.  Ptol- 
emy raised  a  large  portion  of  the  money  re 
quired  for  his  payments  by  confiscating  the  es- 
tates belonging  to  those  friends  of  Berenice's 
government  whom  he  ordered  to  be  slain.  It 
was  said,  in  fact,  that  the  numbers  were  very 
much  increased  of  those  that  were  condemned 
to  die,  by  Ptolemy's  standing  in  such  urgent 
need  of  their  property  to  meet  his  obligations. 

Antony,  through  the  results  of  this  campaign, 
found  himself  suddenly  raised  from  the  position 
of  a  disgraced  and  homeless  fugitive  to  that  of 
one  of  the  most  wealthy  and  renowned,  and, 
consequently,  one  of  the  most  powerful  person- 
ages in  Rome.  The  great  civil  war  broke  out 
about  this  time  between  Cecsar  and  Pompey. 
Antony  espoused  the  cause  of  Ca53ar. 

In  the  mean  time,  while  the  civil  war  be- 
tween CsBsar  and  Pompey  was  raging,  Ptolemy 
succeeded  in  maintaining  his  seat  on  the  throne, 
by  the  aid  of  the  Roman  soldiers  whom  Antony 
and  Gabinius  had  left  him,  for  about  throa 
years.    When  he  found  himself  drawing  toward 


118  Clbopatra.  [B.C.  51 

CloM  of  Ptolemy'a  reign.  S«ttlement  of  the  cue 


the  Close  of  life,  the  question  arose  to  his  mind 
to  whom  he  should  leave  his  kingdom.  Cleo» 
patra  was  the  oldest  child,  and  she  was  a  prin^ 
oess  of  great  promise,  both  in  respect  to  mental 
endowments  and  personal  charms.  Her  broth- 
ers were  considerably  younger  than  she.  The 
claim  of  a  son,  though  younger,  seemed  to  be 
naturally  stronger  than  that  of  a  daughter ;  but 
the  commanding  talents  and  rising  influence  of 
Cleopatra  appeared  to  make  it  doubtful  whether 
it  would  be  safe  to  pass  her  by.  The  father 
settled  the  question  in  the  way  in  which  9u6h 
difliculties  were  usually  surmounted  in  the  Ptx)l- 
emy  family.  He  ordained  that  Cleopatra  should 
marry  the  oldest  of  her  brothers,  and  that  they 
two  should  jointly  occupy  the  throne.  Adher- 
ing also,  still,  to  the  idea  of  the  alliance  of 
Egypt  with  Rome,  which  had  been  the  leading 
principle  of  the  whole  policy  of  his  reign,  he  sol- 
emnly committed  the  execution  of  his  will  and 
the  guardianship  of  his  children,  by  a  provision 
of  the  instrument  itself,  to  the  Roman  senate. 
The  senate  accepted  the  appointment,  and  ap- 
pointed Pompey  as  the  agent,  on  their  part,  to 
perform  the  duties  of  the  trust.  The  attention 
of  Pompey  w«is,  immediately  after  that  time, 
too  mnoh  engrossed  by  the  civil  war  waged  he> 


BO.61-48.]    The  Accession.  119 

Ac«*Mioo  o(  Cleopatra.  She  U  married  to  her  brotbei 


tween  himself  and  Caesar,  to  take  any  active 
steps  in  respect  to  the  duties  of  his  appointment. 
It  seemed,  however,  that  none  were  necessary, 
for  all  parties  in  Alexandria  appeared  disposed, 
after  the  death  of  the  king,  to  acquiesce  in  the 
arrangements  which  he  had  made,  and  to  join 
in  carrying  them  into  effect.  Cleopatra  was 
married  to  her  brother — yet,  it  is  true,  only  a 
boy.  He  was  about  ten  years  old.  She  was 
herself  about  eighteen.  They  were  both  too 
young  to  govern  ;  they  could  only  reign.  The 
affairs  of  the  kingdom  were,  accordingly,  con- 
ducted by  two  ministers  whom  their  father  had 
designated.  These  ministers  were  Pothinus,  a 
eunuch,  who  was  a  sort  of  secretary  of  state, 
and  Achillas,  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  ar- 
mies. 

Thus,  though  Cleopatra,  by  these  events,  be- 
came nominally  a  queen,  her  real  accession  to 
the  throne  was  not  yet  accomplished.  There 
were  still  many  difficulties  and  dangers  to  be 
passed  through,  before  the  period  arrived  when 
she  became  really  a  sovereign.  She  did  not, 
herself,  make  any  immediate  attempt  to  hasten 
this  period,  but  seems  to  have  acquiesced,  on 
the  other  htind,  very  quietly,  for  a  time,  in  tht 
arrangements  which  her  father  had  made. 


120  Cleopatra.  [B.C.43 

Potfainiu  the  eanucJi.  Hi*  obar*oter  and  goTenunnt 

Pothinns  was  a  ennuch.  He  had  been,  for  « 
long  time,  an  officer  of  government  under  Ptol- 
emy, the  father.  He  was  a  proud,  ambitious, 
and  domineering  man,  determined  to  rule,  and 
very  unscrupulous  in  respeot  to  the  means 
which  he  adopted  to  accomplish  his  ends.  He 
had  been  accustomed  to  regard  Cleopatra  as  a 
mere  child.  Now  that  she  was  queen,  he  was 
/ery  unwilling  that  the  real  power  should  pass 
into  her  hands  The  jealousy  and  ill  will  which 
he  felt  toward  her  increased  rapidly  as  he  found, 
in  the  course  of  the  first  two  or  three  years  aft- 
er her  father's  death,  that  she  was  advancing 
rapidly  in  strength  of  character,  and  in  the  in- 
fluence and  ascendency  which  she  was  acquir- 
ing over  all  around  her.  Her  beauty,  her  ac- 
complishments, and  a  certain  indescribable 
charm  which  pervaded  all  her  demeanor,  com- 
bined to  give  her  great  personal  power.  But, 
while  these  things  awakened  in  other  minds 
feelings  of  interest  in  Cleopatra  and  attachment 
to  her,  they  only  increased  the  jealousy  and  envy 
of  Pothinus.  Cleopatra  was  becoming  his  ri- 
val. He  endeavored  to  thwart  and  circumvent 
her.  He  acted  toward  her  in  a  haughty  and 
overbearing  manner,  in  order  to  keep  her  down 
to  what  he  considered  her  proper  place  as  hlf 


B.C. 43.]         The  Accession.  121 

Maehinatloiu  of  Pothlntu.  Cleopatrm  U  sxpellad 

ward ;  fot  he  was  yet  the  guardian  both  of  Cle- 
opatra and  her  husband,  and  the  regent  of  the 
realm. 

Cleopatra  had  a  great  deal  of  what  is  som«- 
times  called  spirit,  and  her  resentment  was 
aroused  by  this  treatment.  Pothinus  took  pains 
to  enlist  her  young  husband,  Ptolemy,  on  his 
side,  as  the  quarrel  advanced.  Ptolemy  was 
younger,  and  of  a  character  much  less  marked 
and  decided  than  Cleopatra.  Pothinus  saw  that 
he  could  maintain  control  over  him  much  more 
easily  and  for  a  much  longer  time  than  over 
Cleopatra.  He  contrived  to  awaken  the  young 
Ptolemy's  jealousy  of  his  wife's  rising  influence^ 
and  to  induce  him  to  join  in  efforts  to  thwart 
and  counteract  it.  These  attempts  to  turn  her 
husband  against  her  only  aroused  Cleopatra's 
resentment  the  more.  Hers  was  not  a  spirit  to 
be  coerced.  The  palace  was  filled  with  the  dis- 
sensions of  the  rivals.  Pothinus  and  Ptolemy 
began  to  take  measures  for  securing  the  army 
on  their  side.  An  open  rupture  finally  ensued, 
and  Cleopatra  was  expelled  from  the  kingdom. 
She  went  to  Syria.  Syria  was  the  nearest 
place  of  refuge,  and  then,  besides,  it  was  the 
country  from  which  the  aid  had  been  furnished 
by  which  her  father  had  been  restored  to  the 


122  Cleopatra.  [B.C.43 

Cleoyatn'i  anny.  Apprwchlnf  eoatMt 

throne  when  he  had  been  expelled,  in  a  similar 
manner,  many  years  before.  Her  father,  it  is 
true,  had  gone  first  to  Rome ;  but  the  succors 
which  he  had  negotiated  for  had  been  sent  fiom 
Syria  Cleopatra  hoped  to  obtain  the  same  as- 
sistance by  going  directly  there. 

Nor  was  she  disappointed.  She  obtained  an 
army,  and  commenced  her  march  toward  Egypt, 
following  the  same  track  which  Antony  and 
Gabinius  had  pursued  in  coming  to  reinstate 
her  father.  Pothinus  raised  an  army  and  went 
forth  to  meet  her.  He  took  Achillas  as  the 
commander  of  the  troops,  and  the  young  Ptole- 
my as  the  nominal  sovereign ;  while  he,  as  the 
young  king's  guardian  and  prime  minister,  ex- 
ercised the  real  power.  The  troops  of  Pothinus 
advanced  to  Pelusium.  Here  they  met  the 
forces  of  Cleopatra  coming  from  the  east  The 
armies  encamped  not  very  far  from  each  other, 
and  both  sides  began  to  prepare  for  battle. 

The  battle,  however,  was  not  fought.  It  was 
prevented  by  the  occurrence  of  certain  great 
and  unforeseen  events  which  at  this  crisis  sud- 
denly burst  upon  the  scene  of  Egyptian  history, 
and  turned  the  whole  current  of  affairs  into  new 
and  unexpected  channels.  The  breaking  out  of 
the  civil  war  between  the  great  Roman  gener 


B.C. 43.^         The  Accessioh  123 

V.mt»r  and  PoBtpaj.  Battle  of  PharsalU. 

als  Ceesar  and  Pompey,  and  their  respective  par- 
tisans, has  already  been  mentioned  as  having 
occurred  soon  after  the  death  of  Cleopatra's  fa- 
!her,  and  as  having  prevented  Pompey  from 
undertaking  the  office  of  executor  of  the  wiJL 
This  w^ar  had  been  raging  ever  since  that  time 
with  terrible  fury.  Its  distant  thundering  had 
been  heard  even  in  Egypt,  but  it  was  too  re- 
mote to  awaken  there  any  special  alarm.  The 
immense  armies  of  these  two  mighty  conquer- 
ors had  moved  slowly — like  two  ferocious  birds 
of  prey,  flying  through  the  air,  and  fighting  as 
they  fly — across  Italy  into  Greece,  and  from 
Greece,  through  Macedon,  into  Thessaly,  con- 
tending in  dreadful  struggles  with  each  other  as 
they  advanced,  and  trampling  down  and  de 
stroying  every  thing  in  their  way.  At  length 
a  great  final  battle  had  been  fought  at  Pharsa- 
lia.  Pompey  had  been  totally  defeated.  He 
had  fled  to  the  sea-shore,  and  there,  with  a  few 
^hips  and  a  small  number  of  followers,  he  had 
pushed  out  upon  the  Mediterranean,  not  know- 
Ing  whither  to  fly,  and  overwhelme*!  with 
wretchedness  and  despair.  Csesar  followed  him 
in  eager  pursuit.  He  had  a  small  fleet  of  gal- 
leys with  him,  on  board  of  which  he  had  em- 
barked two  or  three  thousand  men.     This  was 


124  CLEOPATRiL  |B.C.4a 

fompej  at  Pelniliun.  TrMcbery  of  PotUnu 

a  foror  suitable,  perhaps,  for  the  pursuit  of  a 
fugitiYe,  but  wholly  insufficient  for  any  other 
design. 

Pompey  thought  of  Ptolemy.  He  remember- 
ed the  efforts  which  he  himself  had  made  for  the 
eause  of  Ptolemy  Auletes,  at  Rome,  and  the 
success  of  those  efforts  in  securing  that  mon* 
arch's  restoration — an  event  through  which 
alone  the  young  Ptolemy  had  been  enabled  to 
attain  the  crown.  He  came,  therefore,  to  Pe- 
lusium,  and,  anchoring  his  little  fleet  off  the 
shore,  sent  to  the  land  to  ask  Ptolemy  to  receive 
and  protect  him.  Pothinus,  who  was  really  the 
commander  in  Ptolemy's  army,  made  answer 
to  this  application  that  Pompey  should  be  re- 
ceived and  protected,  and  that  he  would  send 
out  a  boat  to  bring  him  to  the  shore.  Pompey 
felt  some  misgivings  in  respect  to  this  proffered 
hospitality,  but  he  finally  concluded  to  go  to  the 
shore  in  the  boat  which  Pothinus  sent  for  him. 
As  soon  as  he  landed,  the  Egyptians,  by  Pothi* 
nos's  orders,  stabbed  and  beheaded  him  on  the 
sand.  Pothinus  and  his  council  had  decided 
that  this  would  be  the  safest  course.  If  they 
were  to  receive  Pompey,  they  reasoned,  CeEtsar 
would  be  made  their  enemy ;  if  they  refased  to 
receive  him.  Pompey  himself  would  be  offend- 


B.C  43.J  The  Accession  126 

OaMar's  pursuit  of  Pcmpey.  HU  dang«r. 

ed,  and  they  did  not  know  which  of  the  two  it 
would  be  safe  to  displease;  for  they  did  not 
know  in  what  way,  if  both  the  generals  were 
to  be  allowed  to  live,  the  war  would  ultimately 
end.  "  But  by  killing  Pompey,"  they  said,  "  we 
shall  be  sure  to  please  Caesar,  and  Pompey  him- 
self will  lie  still" 

In  the  mean  time,  Csesar,  not  knowing  to 
what  part  of  Egypt  Pompey  had  fled,  pressed 
on  directly  to  Alexandria.  He  exposed  himself 
to  great  danger  in  so  doing,  for  the  forces  under 
his  command  were  not  sufficient  to  protect  him 
in  case  of  his  becoming  involved  in  difficulties 
with  the  authorities  there.  Nor  could  he,  when 
once  arrived  on  the  Egyptian  coast,  easily  go 
away  again ;  for,  at  the  season  of  the  year  ifa 
which  these  events  occurred,  there  was  a  peri- 
edical  wind  which  blew  steadily  toward  that 
part  of  the  coast,  and,  while  it  made  it  very  easy 
for  a  fleet  of  ships  to  go  to  Alexandria,  rendered 
it  almost  impossible  for  them  to  return. 

Caesar  was  very  little  accustomed  to  shrink 
horn  danger  in  any  of  his  enterprises  and  plans, 
though  still  he  was  usually  prudent  and  oir- 
onmspeot.  In  this  instance,  however,  his  ar- 
dent interest  in  the  pursuit  of  Pompey  over- 
Rilwl  ail  oonsiderations  of  personal  safety.    H« 


12b  Cleopatra.  (B.C.4a 

Cmmr  at  Alexmadite.  Aitoolahment  of  the  EgyptlMM 

arrived  at  Alexandria,  but  he  found  that  Pom- 
pey  was  not  there.  He  anchored  his  vessels  iv 
the  port,  landed  his  troops,  and  established  him- 
•elf  in  the  city.  These  two  events,  the  assa» 
aination  of  one  of  the  great  Roman  generals  on 
the  eastern  extremity  cf  the  coast,  and  the  ar- 
rival of  the  other,  at  the  same  moment,  at  Al- 
exandria, on  the  western,  burst  suddenly  upon 
Egypt  together,  like  simultaneous  claps  of 
thunder.  The  tidings  struck  the  whole  coun- 
try with  astonishment,  and  immediately  en- 
grossed universal  attention.  At  the  canvps  both 
of  Cleopatra  and  Ptolemy,  at  Pelusium,  all  was 
excitement  and  wonder.  Instead  of  thinking  of 
a  battle,  both  parties  were  wholly  occupied  in 
speculating  on  the  results  which  were  likely  to 
accrue,  to  one  side  or  to  the  other,  under  the 
totally  new  and  unexpected  aspect  which  pub- 
lic affairs  had  assumed. 

Of  course  the  thoughts  of  all  were  turned  to 
ward  Alexandria.  Pothinus  immediately  pra 
seeded  to  the  city,  taking  with  him  the  young 
king.  Achiilas,  too,  either  accompanied  them, 
or  followed  soon  afterward.  They  carried  with 
them  the  head  of  Pompey,  which  they  had  cut 
off  om  the  shore  where  they  had  killed  him,  and 
also  a  seal  which  thev  took  from  his  finarer 


B.C. 43.1         The  Accession.  127 

Catmr  preiented  with  Pompey'i  head.  Pompey't  m«) 

When  they  arrived  at  Alexandria,  they  sent  th« 
head,  wrapped  up  in  a  cloth,  and  also  the  seal, 
fcs  presents  to  Ceesar.  Accustomed  as  they 
were  to  the  brutal  deeds  and  heartless  cruelties 
of  the  Ptolemies,  they  supposed  that  Caesar 
would  exult  at  the  spectacle  of  the  dissevered 
and  ghastly  head  of  his  great  rival  and  enemy. 
Instead  of  this,  he  was  shocked  and  displeased, 
and  ordered  the  head  to  be  buried  with  the  most 
solemn  and  imposing  funeral  ceremonies.  He, 
however,  accepted  and  kept  the  seal.  The  de- 
vice engraved  upon  it  was  a  lion  holding  a 
sword  in  his  paw — a  fit  emblem  of  the  charac- 
ters of  the  men,  who,  though  in  many  respects 
magnanimous  and  just,  had  filled  the  whole 
world  with  the  terror  of  their  quarrels. 

The  army  of  Ptolemy,  while  he  himself  and 
his  immediate  counselors  went  to  Alexandria, 
was  left  at  Pelusium,  under  the  command  of 
other  officers,  to  watch  Cleopatra.  Cleopatra 
herself  would  have  been  pleased,  also,  to  repair 
to  Alexandria  and  appeal  to  Ctesar,  if  it  had 
been  in  her  power  to  do  so;  but  she  was  be. 
yond  the  confines  of  the  country,  with  a  power- 
ful army  of  her  enemies  ready  to  intercept  hei 
on  any  attempt  to  enter  or  pass  through  it. 
She  remained,  therefore,  at  Pelusium,  uncer 
tain  what  to  do. 


128  Cleopatra.  [B.C.43 

HtaatkmorOaMr.  Hlid>nnnd» 

In  the  mean  time,  Csesar  soon  found  himseli 
in  a  somewhat  embarrassing  situation  at  Alex- 
andria. He  had  been  accustomed,  for  manj 
years,  to  the  possession  and  the  exercise  of  the 
most  absolute  and  despotic  power,  wherever  he 
might  be ;  and  now  that  Pompey,  his  great  ri- 
val, was  dead,  he  considered  himself  the  mon- 
arch and  master  of  the  world.  He  had  not, 
however,  at  Alexandria,  any  means  sufficient 
to  maintain  and  enforce  such  pretensions,  and 
yet  he  was  not  of  a  spirit  to  abate,  on  that  ac- 
count, in  the  slightest  degree,  the  advancing  of 
them.  He  established  himself  in  the  palaces  of 
Alexandria  as  if  he  were  himself  the  king.  He 
moved,  in  state,  through  the  streets  of  the  city, 
at  the  head  of  his  guards,  and  displaying  the 
customary  emblems  of  supreme  authority  used 
at  Rome.  He  claimed  the  six  thousand  talents 
which  Ptolemy  Auletes  had  formerly  promisee 
him  for  procuring  a  treaty  of  alliance  with 
Rome,  and  he  called  upon  Pothinus  to  pay  the 
balance  due.  He  said,  moreover,  that  hy  the 
will  of  Auletes  the  Roman  people  had  been 
made  the  executor ;  and  that  it  devolved  upon 
him  as  the  Roman  consul,  and,  consequently, 
the  representative  of  the  Roman  people,  to  as- 
trnne  that  trust,  and  in  the  discharge  of  it  to 


B.C. 43.]         The  Accession.  12» 

Condnot  of  PotUnu.  Qnanelt. 

settle  the  dispute  between  Ptolemy  and  Cleo- 
patra ;  and  he  called  upon  Ptolemy  to  prepare 
and  lay  before  him  a  statement  of  his  claims, 
and  the  grounds  on  which  he  maintained  his 
right  to  the  throne  to  the  exclusion  of  Cleopatra. 
On  the  other  hand,  Pothinus,  who  had  been 
as  little  accustomed  to  acknowledge  a  superior 
as  CsBsar,  though  his  supremacy  and  domina- 
tion had  been  exercised  on  a  somewhat  hum- 
bler scale,  was  obstinate  and  pertinacious  in  re- 
sisting all  these  demands,  though  the  means 
and  methods  which  he  resorted  to  were  of  a 
character  corresponding  to  his  weak  and  igno- 
ble mind.  He  fomented  quarrels  in  the  streets 
between  the  Alexandrian  populace  and  Caesar's 
soldiers.  He  thought  that,  as  the  number  of 
troops  under  Csesar's  command  in  the  city,  and 
of  vessels  in  the  port,  was  small,  he  could  tease 
and  worry  the  Romans  with  impunity,  though 
he  had  not  the  courage  openly  to  attack  them 
He  pretended  to  be  a  friend,  or,  at  least,  not  an 
enemy,  and  yet  he  conducted  toward  them  in 
an  overbearing  and  insolent  manner.  He  had 
agreed  to  make  arrangements  for  supplying 
them  with  food,  and  he  did  this  by  procuring 
damaged  provisions  of  a  most  wretched  quality ; 

a^nd  when  the  soldiers  remonstrated,  he  said  ta 
ttf— 0 


130  Cleopatra  [B.C.43. 

PoHey  of  Pothiniu.  ContentloDi 

them,  that  thoy  who  lived  at  other  people's  cost 
had  no  right  to  complain  of  their  faro.  He 
caused  wooden  and  earthen  vessels  to  be  used 
in  the  palace,  and  said,  in  explanation,  that  he 
had  been  compelled  to  sell  all  the  gold  and  silver 
plate  of  the  royal  household  to  meet  the  exac- 
tions of  Caesar  He  Jbusied  himself,  too,  about 
the  city,  in  endeavoring  to  excite  odium  against 
CaBsar's  proposal  to  hear  and  decide  the  ques- 
tion at  issue  between  Cleopatra  and  Ptolemy. 
Ptolemy  was  a  sovereign,  he  said,  and  was  not 
amenable  to  any  foreign  power  whatever.  Thus, 
without  the  courage  or  the  energy  to  attempt 
any  open,  manly,  and  effectual  system  of  hos- 
tility, he  contented  himself  with  making  all  the 
difficulty  in  his  power,  by  urging  an  incessant 
pressure  of  potty,  vexatious,  and  provoking,  but 
useless  annoyances.  CeDsar's  demands  may 
have  been  unjust,  but  they  were  bold,  manly, 
and  undisguised.  The  eunuch  may  have  been 
right  in  resisting  them ;  but  the  mode  was  so 
mean  and  contemptible,  that  mankind  have  al- 
ways  taken  part  with  Caesar  in  the  sentiments 
which  they  have  formed  as  spectators  of  the 
contest. 

With  the  very  small  force  which  Caesar  had 
It  his  command,  and  shut  up  as  he  was  in  th« 


B.C. 43.]  The  Accession.  131 

Cesar  sends  to  Sjrla  for  addidonal  troops. 

midst  of  a  very  great  and  powerful  city,  in 
which  both  the  garrison  and  the  population  were 
growing  more  and  more  hostile  to  him  every 
day,  he  soon  found  his  situation  was  beginning 
to  be  attended  with  very  serious  danger.  He 
oould  not  retire  from  the  scene.  He  probably 
would  not  have  retired  if  he  could  have  done  so. 
He  remained,  therefore,  in  the  city,  conducting 
all  the  time  with  prudence  and  circumspection, 
but  yet  maintaining,  as  at  first,  the  same  air  of 
confident  self-possession  and  superiority  which 
always  characterized  his  demeanor.  He,  how- 
ever, dispatched  a  messenger  forthwith  into 
Syria,  the  nearest  country  under  the  Roman 
sway,  with  orders  that  several  legions  which 
were  posted  there  should  be  embarked  and  for^ 
warded  to  Alexandria  with  the  utmost  possible 
celerity. 


132  Cleopatra.  [J3.C.4« 

Oleopstn'i  perplezit7.  81m  ratoirM  to  go  to  Al«zuidTl« 


Chapter  VI. 
Cleopatra  and  C^sar. 

IN  the  mean  time,  -v^hile  the  events  related  in 
the  last  chapter  were  taking  place  at  Alex- 
andria, Cleopatra  remained  anxious  and  uneasy 
in  her  camp,  quite  uncertain,  for  a  time,  what 
it  was  best  for  her  to  do.  She  wished  to  be  at 
Alexandria.  She  knew  very  well  that  CiEsar*8 
power  in  controlling  the  course  of  affairs  in 
Egypt  would  necessarily  be  supreme.  She  was, 
of  course,  very  earnest  in  her  desire  to  be  able 
to  present  her  cause  before  him.  As  it  was, 
Ptolemy  and  Pothinus  were  in  communication 
with  the  arbiter,  and,  for  aught  she  knew,  as- 
siduously cultivating  his  favor,  while  she  waf 
far  away,  her  cause  unheard,  her  wrongs  un- 
known, and  perhaps  even  her  existence  forgot- 
ten. Of  course,  under  such  circumstances,  she 
was  very  earnest  to  get  to  Alexandria 

But  how  to  accomplish  this  purpose  was  a 
source  of  great  perplexity.  She  could  net  march 
thither  at  the  head  of  an  army,  for  the  army  of 
the  king  was  otrongly  intrenched  at  Pelnsinm^ 


li.C.48.]  Cleopatra  and  C^bsar.        ISH 

Olaopatn'i  meMage  to  Csmt.  Caaar'a  reply 

and  effectually  barred  the  way.  She  could  not 
attempt  to  pass  alone,  or  with  few  attendants, 
through  the  country,  for  every  town  and  village 
was  occupied  with  garrisons  and  officers  under 
the  orders  of  Pothinus,  and  she  would  be  cer- 
tainly intercepted.  She  had  no  fleet,  and  could 
not,  therefore,  make  the  passage  by  sea.  Be- 
sides, even  if  she  could  by  any  means  reach  the 
gates  of  Alexandria,  how  was  she  to  pass  safely 
through  the  streets  of  the  city  to  the  palace 
where  Caesar  resided,  since  the  city,  except  in 
CsBsar's  quarters,  was  wholly  in  the  hands  of 
Pothinus's  government  ?  The  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  accomplishing  her  object  seemed  thus 
almost  insurmountable. 

She  was,  however,  resolved  to  make  the  at- 
tempt. She  sent  a  message  to  Ceesar,  asking 
permission  to  appear  before  him  and  plead  her 
own  cause.  Csesar  replied,  urging  her  by  all 
means  to  come.  She  took  a  single  boat,  and 
with  the  smallest  number  of  attendants  possi- 
ble, made  her  way  along  the  coast  to  Alexan- 
Iria.  The  man  on  whom  she  principally  relied 
in  this  hazardous  expedition  was  a  domestic 
named  Apollodorus.  She  had,  however,  somo 
other  attendants  besides.  When  the  party  reach- 
f^  Alexandria,  they  waited  until  night,  and  then 


134  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  38. 

ipoDodorua't  ■tratagem.  Cleopatra  and  Cmar. 

advanced  to  the  foot  of  the  walls  of  the  citadel 
Here  ApoUodorus  rolled  the  queen  up  in  a  piece 
of  carpeting,  and,  covering  the  whole  package 
with  a  cloth,  he  tied  it  with  a  thong,  so  as  to 
give  it  the  appearance  of  a  bale  of  ordinary  mer- 
chandise, and  then  throwing  the  load  across  his 
shoulder,  he  advanced  into  the  city.  Cleopatra 
was  at  this  time  about  twenty -one  years  of  age, 
but  she  was  of  a  slender  and  graceful  form,  and 
the  burden  was,  consequently,  not  very  heavy. 
ApoUodorus  came  to  the  gates  of  the  palace 
where  Ceesar  was  residing.  The  guards  at  the 
gates  asked  him  what  it  was  that  he  was  car- 
rying. He  said  that  it  was  a  present  for  Cbb- 
sar.  So  they  allowed  him  to  pass,  and' the  pre- 
tended porter  carried  his  package  safely  in. 

When  it  was  unrolled,  and  Cleopatra  came 
out  to  view,  Cecsar  was  perfectly  charmed  with 
the  spectacle.  In  fact,  the  various  conflicting 
emotions  which  she  could  not  but  feel  under 
such  circumstances  as  these,  imparted  a  double 
interest  to  her  beautiful  and  expressive  face, 
and  to  her  naturally  bewitching  manners.  She 
was  excited  by  the  adventure  through  which 
she  had  passed,  and  yet  pleased  with  her  nar- 
row escape  from  its  dangers.  The  curiosity 
and  interest  which  she  felt  on  the  one  hand,  io 


B.C.48.J  Cli!,opatra  and  C^sar.         137 

First  imprestloiu.  Oeetar't  attMhineni 

respect  to  the  great  personage  into  whose  pres* 
ence  she  had  been  thus  strangely  ushered,  was 
very  strong;  but  then,  on  the  other,  it  wa> 
chastened  and  subdued  by  that  feeling  of  timid- 
ity which,  in  new  and  unexpected  situations 
like  these,  and  under  a  consciousness  of  being 
the  object  of  eager  observation  to  the  other  sex, 
is  inseparable  from  the  nature  ofj&oman.  - — 
The  conversation  which  Ceesar  held  with  Cle- 
opatra deepened  the  impression  which  hei  first 
appearance  had  made  upon  him.  Her  intelli- 
gence and  animation,  the  originality  of  her  ideas, 
and  the  point  and  pertinency  of  her  mode  of  ex- 
pressing them,  made  her,  independently  of  her 
personal  charms,  an  exceedingly  entertaining 
and  agreeable  companion.  She,  in  fact,  com- 
pletely won  the  great  conqueror's  heart;  and, 
through  the  strong  attachment  to  her  which  ha 
immediately  formed,  he  became  wholly  disqual-  ] 
ified  to  act  impartially  between  her  and  her 
brother  in  regard  to  their  respective  rights  to 
the  crown.  Wo  call  Ptolemy  Cleopatra's  broth- 
er ;  for,  though  he  was  also,  in  fact,  her  husband, 
still,  as  he  was  only  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age 
at  the  time  of  Cleopatra's  expulsion  from  Alex- 
andria, the  marriage  had  been  probably  regard- 
ed, thus  far,  only  as  a  mere  matter  of  form. 


13>J  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  48 

Canr*!  wtfeu  Ifia  fondneM  for  Cleopatru 

Csesar  was  now  about  fifty-two.  He  had  a 
wife,  named  Calpurnia,  to  whom  he  had  been 
married  about  ten  years.  She  was  living,  at 
this  time,  in  an  unostentatious  and  quiet  man 
ner  at  Rome.  She  was  a  lady  of  an  amiable 
and  gentle  character,  devotedly  attached  to  her 
husband,  patient  and  forbearing  in  respect  to 
his  faults,  and  often  anxious  and  unhappy  at 
the  thought  of  the  difficulties  and  dangers  in 
which  his  ardent  and  unbounded  ambition  so 
often  involved  him. 

Csesar  immediately  began  to  take  a  very 
strong  interest  in  Cleopatra's  cause.  He  treat- 
ed her  personally  with  the  fondest  attention, 
and  it  was  impossible  for  her  not  to  reciprocate 
in  some  degree  the  kind  feeling  with  which  he 
regarded  her.  It  was,  in  fact,  something  alto- 
gether new  to  her  to  have  a  warm  and  devoted 
firiend,  espousing  her  cause,  tendering  her  pro- 
tection, and  seeking  in  every  way  to  promote 
her  happiness.  Her  father  had  all  his  life  neg- 
lected her.  Her  brother,  of  years  and  under- 
standing totally  inferior  to  hers,  whom  she  had 
been  compelled  to  make  her  husband,  had  be- 
come her  mortal  enemy.  It  is  true  that,  in  de- 
priving her  of  her  inheritance  and  expelling  hei 
from  her  native  land,  he  had  been  only  the  tool 


B.C. 48.1  Cleopatra  amd  CiKSAR  I3b 


Ctoop«trm'*  tboa.  She  oommlu  her  oauae  to  Cwaar 


and  instrument  of  more  designing  men.  This, 
howe  /er,  far  from  improving  the  point  of  view 
fror^  which  she  regarded  him,  made  him  appear 
not  only  hateful,  but  contemptible  too.  All  the 
officeis  of  government,  also,  in  the  Alexandrian 
oeurt  had  turned  against  her,  because  they  had 
supposed  that  they  could  control  her  brother 
more  easily  if  she  were  away.  Thus  she  had 
always  been  surrounded  by  selfish,  mercenary, 
and  implacable  foes.  Now,  for  the  first  time, 
she  seemed  to  have  a  friend.  A  protector  had 
suddenly  arisen  to  support  and  defend  her — a 
man  of  very  alluring  person  and  manners,  of  a 
very  noble  and  generous  spirit,  and  of  the  very 
highest  station.  He  loved  her,  and  she  could 
not  refrain  from  loving  him  in  return.  She 
committed  her  cause  entirely  into  his  hands, 
confided  to  him  all  her  interests,  and  gave  her- 
self up  wholly  into  his  power. 

Nor  was  the  unbounded  confidence  which  she 
reposed  in  him  undeserved,  so  far  as  related  to 
his  efforts  to  restore  her  to  her  throne.  The  le 
gions  which  Caesar  had  sent  for  into  Syria  had 
aot  yet  arrived,  and  his  situation  in  Alexandria 
was  still  very  defenseless  and  very  precarious. 
He  did  not,  however,  on  this  account,  abate  in 
the  least  degree  the  loftiness  and  self-oonfidenoe 


140  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  48 

OsMur's  pratetuloDt.  He  woda  for  Ptolemy. 

of  the  position  which  he  had  assumed,  but  ho 
commenced  immediately  the  work  of  securing 
Cleopatra's  restoration.  This  quiet  assumption 
of  the  right  and  power  to  arbitrate  and  decide 
such  a  question  as  that  of  the  claim  to  the 
throne,  in  a  country  where  he  had  accidentally 
landed  and  found  rival  claimants  disputing  for 
the  succession,  while  he  was  still  wholly  desti- 
tute of  the  means  of  enforcing  the  superiority 
which  he  so  coolly  assumed,  marks  the  im- 
mense ascendency  which  the  Roman  power  had 
attained  at  this  time  in  the  estimation  of  man 
kind,  and  is,  besides,  specially  characteristic  o/ 
the  genius  and  disposition  of  CsBsar. 

Very  soon  after  Cleopatra  had  come  to  him, 
Caesar  sent  for  the  young  Ptolemy,  and  urged 
upon  him  the  duty  and  expediency  of  restoring 
Cleopatra.  Ptolemy  was  beginning  now  to  at- 
tain an  age  at  which  he  might  be  supposed  to 
have  some  opinion  of  his  own  on  such  a  ques- 
tion. He  declared  himself  utterly  opposed  to 
any  such  design.  In  the  course  of  the  conver- 
sation he  learned  that  Cleopatra  had  arrived  at 
Alexandria,  and  that  she  was  then  concealed  in 
CfiBsar's  palace.  This  intelligence  awakened  in 
his  mind  the  greatest  excitement  and  indigna- 
tion.   Ho  wont  away  from  Cssar's  presence  in 


B.C. 48.J  Cleopatra  and  Caesar.         141 

Ptolemy's  indignation.  HU  oooipUlBti  agmlnBt  CsMur 

a  rage.  He  tore  the  diadem  which  he  was  ao- 
oastomed  to  wear  from  his  head  in  the  streets, 
threw  it  down,  and  trampled  it  under  his  feet 
He  declared  to  the  people  that  he  was  betrayed, 
and  displayed  the  most  violent  indications  of 
yexation  and  chagrin.  The  chief  subject  of  his 
complaint,  in  the  attempts  which  he  made  to 
awaken  the  popular  indignation  against  CsBsar 
and  the  Romans,  was  the  disgraceful  impropri- 
ety of  the  position  which  his  sister  had  assumed 
m  surrendering  herself  as  she  had  done  to  Csb- 
sar.  It  is  most  probable,  however,  unless  his 
character  was  very  different  from  that  of  every 
other  Ptolemy  in  the  line,  that  what  really  awak- 
ened his  jealousy  and  anger  was  fear  of  the 
commanding  influence  and  power  to  which  Cle- 
opatra was  likely  to  attain  through  the  agency 
of  Ro  distinguished  a  protector,  rather  than  any 
other  consequences  of  his  friendship,  or  any  real 
considerations  of  delicacy  in  respect  to  his  sis- 
ter's good  name  or  his  own  marital  honor. 

However  this  may  be,  Ptolemy,  togethei 
with  Pothinus  and  Achillas,  and  all  his  other 
friends  and  adherents,  who  joined  him  in  the  ter- 
rible outcry  that  he  made  against  the  coalition 
which  he  had  discovered  between  Cleopatra  and 
C»sar,  succeeded  in  producing  a  very  general 


143  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  48 

Oraat  tamnlt  tn  tiw  tAtj.  Exoltenrant  cf  Um  popolam 

and  violent  tumult  throughout  the  city.  The 
populace  were  aroused,  and  began  to  assemble 
in  great  crowds,  and  full  of  indignation  and  an- 
ger. Some  knew  the  facts,  and  acted  under 
something  like  an  understanding  of  the  cause 
of  their  anger.  Others  only  knew  that  the  aim 
of  this  sudden  outbreak  was  to  assault  the  Ro- 
mans, and  were  ready,  on  any  pretext,  known 
or  unknown,  to  join  in  any  deeds  of  violence 
directed  against  these  foreign  intruders.  There 
were  others  still,  and  these,  probably,  far  the 
larger  portion,  who  knew  nothing  and  under- 
stood nothing  but  that  there  was  to  be  tumult 
and  a  riot  in  and  around  the  palaces,  and  were, 
accordingly,  eager  to  be  there. 

Ptolemy  and  his  officers  had  no  large  body  of 
troops  in  Alexandria ;  for  the  events  which  had 
thus  far  occurred  since  Ceesar's  arrival  had  suc- 
ceeded each  other  so  rapidly,  that  a  very  short 
time  had  yet  elapsed,  and  the  main  army  re- 
mained still  at  Pelusium.  The  main  force, 
therefore,  by  which  Caesar  was  now  attacked, 
consisted  of  the  population  of  the  city,  heade<l, 
perhaps,  by  the  few  guards  which  the  young 
king  had  at  his  command. 

C«B8ar,  on  his  part,  had  but  a  small  portion 
•f  his  forces  at  the  palaos  where  he  was  attaok 


B.C. 4ti.]  Cleopatra  and  Cjsbar.         14<) 

CaMT'i  fbroM.  Ptolemy  made  priaolm 

ed.  The  rest  were  scattered  about  the  city. 
He,  however,  seems  to  have  felt  no  alarm.  He 
did  not  even  confine  himself  to  acting  on  the  de- 
fensive. He  sent  out  a  detachment  of  his  sol- 
diers with  orders  to  seize  Ptolemy  and  bring 
him  in  a  prisoner.  Soldiers  trained,  disciplined, 
and  armed  as  the  Roman  veterans  were,  and 
nerved  by  the  ardor  and  enthusiasm  which 
seemed  always  to  animate  troops  which  were 
under  CsBsar's  personal  command,  could  accom- 
plish almost  any  undertaking  against  a  mero 
populace,  however  numerous  or  however  furi- 
ously excited  they  might  be.  The  soldiers  sal- 
-ied  out,  seized  Ptolemy,  and  brought  him  in. 

The  populace  were  at  first  astounded  at  the 
daring  presumption  of  this  deed,  and  then  ex- 
asperated at  the  indignity  of  it,  considered  as  a 
violation  of  the  person  of  their  sovereign.  The 
tumult  would  have  greatly  increased,  had  it  not 
been  that  Ccesar — who  had  now  attained  all 
his  ends  in  thus  having  brought  Cleopatra  and 
Ptolemy  both  within  his  power  —  thought  it 
most  expedient  to  allay  it.  He  accordingly  as- 
cended to  the  window  of  a  tower,  or  of  some 
other  elevated  portion  of  his  palace,  so  high  that 
missiles  from  the  mob  below  could  not  reaoh 
him,  and  began  to  make  signals  expressive  oi 
his  wish  to  address  +''ero. 


144  Cleopatra.  [B.C.4^. 

Oam'i  addnM  to  Hm  peopls.  Ik  effacfta. 

When  silence  was  obtained,  he  made  them  a 
speech  well  calculated  to  quiet  the  excitement. 
He  told  them  that  he  did  not  pretend  to  anj 
light  to  judge  between  Cleopatra  and  Ptolemy 
us  their  superior,  but  only  in  the  performance 
of  the  duty  solemnly  assigned  by  Ptolemy  Au- 
letes,  the  father,  to  the  Roman  people,  whose 
representative  he  was.  Other  than  this  he 
claimed  no  jurisdiction  in  the  case;  and  his 
only  wish,  in  the  discharge  of  the  duty  which 
devolved  upon  him  to  consider  the  cause,  was  to 
settle  the  question  in  a  manner  just  and  equi- 
table to  all  the  parties  concerned,  and  thus  ar- 
rest the  progress  of  the  civil  war,  which,  if  not 
arrested,  threatened  to  involve  the  country  in 
the  most  terrible  calamities.  He  counseled 
them,  therefore,  to  disperse,  and  no  longer  dis- 
turb the  peace  of  the  city.  He  would  imme- 
diately take  measures  for  trying  the  question 
between  Cleopatra  and  Ptolemy,  and  he  did  not 
doubt  but  that  they  would  all  be  satisfied  with 
hiB  decision. 

This  speech,  made,  as  it  was,  in  the  eloquejil 
and  persuasive,  and  yet  dignified  and  imposing 
manner  for  which  CcDsar's  harangues  to  turbu- 
lent assemblies  like  these  were  so  famed,  oro- 
duced  a  great  effect.     Some  were  convinced. 


B.C.  4».J    Cleopatra  and  Caesar.       145 

The  mob  dltperaed.  Cesar  conrenei  la  aMembly 

others  were  silenced ;  and  those  whose  resent- 
ment and  anger  were  not  appeased,  found  them- 
selves deprived  of  their  power  by  the  pacifica- 
tion of  the  rest.  The  mob  was  dispersed,  and 
Ptolemy  remained  with  Cleopatra  in  Cajsar's 
custody. 

The  next  day,  CsBsar,  according  to  his  prom 
ise,  convened  an  assembly  of  the  principal  peo- 
ple of  Alexandria  and  officers  of  state,  and  then 
brought  out  Ptolemy  and  Cleopatra,  that  he 
might  decide  their  cause.  The  original  will 
which  Ptolemy  Auletes  had  executed  had  been 
deposited  in  the  public  archives  of  Alexandria, 
and  carefully  preserved  there.  An  authentic 
copy  of  it  had  been  sent  to  Rome.  Csesar  caus- 
ed the  original  will  to  be  brought  out  and  read 
to  the  assembly.  The  provisions  of  it  were  per- 
fectly explicit  and  clear.  It  required  that  Cle- 
opatra and  Ptolemy  should  be  married,  and  then 
settled  the  sovereign  power  upon  them  jointly, 
as  king  and  queen.  It  recognized  the  Roman 
commonwealth  as  the  ally  of  Egypt,  and  con- 
stituted the  Roman  government  the  executa 
of  the  will,  and  the  guardian  of  the  king  and 
queen.  In  fact,  so  clear  and  explicit  was  this 
document,  that  the  simple  reading  of  it  seemed 

to  be  of  itself  a  decision  of  the  question.    Whea 

16—10 


146  Cleopatra.  \B.C.48 

CMMT't  deelaioii.  SadsflicdoB  of  the  imeinMy 

therefore,  Caesar  announced  that,  in  his  judg- 
ment, Cleopatra  was  entitled  to  share  the  sii- 
prenie  power  with  Ptolemy,  and  that  it  was  hit 
duty,  as  the  representative  of  the  Roman  power 
and  the  executor  of  the  will,  to  protect  both  the 
king  and  the  queen  in  their  respective  rights, 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  that  could  b«>  said 
against  his  decision. 

Besides  Cleopatra  and  Ptolemy,  there  were 
two  other  children  of  Ptolemy  Auletes  in  tha 
royal  family  at  this  time.  One  was  a  girl, 
named  Arsinoe.  The  other,  a  boy,  was,  singu- 
larly enough,  named,  like  his  brother,  Ptolemy. 
These  children  were  quite  young,  but  Caesar 
thought  that  it  would  perhaps  gratify  the  Alex 
andrians,  and  lead  them  to  acquiesce  more  read 
ily  in  his  decision,  if  he  were  to  make  som* 
royal  provision  for  them.  He  accordingly  pro 
posed  to  assign  the  island  of  Cyprus  as  a  realn 
for  them.  This  was  literally  a  gift,  for  Cypnu 
was  at  this  time  a  Roman  possession.* 

The  whole  assembly  seemed  satisfied  with 
this  decision  except  Pothinus.  He  had  been  so 
determined  and  inveterate  an  enemy  to  Cleopa- 
tra, that,  as  he  was  well  aware,  her  restoration 

*  For  the  poaition  ot  this  island  in  respect  to  Egypt  and 
ttoM  neigfaboring  ooantriec,  tee  map,  froatismnc*. 


B.C.48.]  Cleopatka  and  C^sar.        147 

Festivals  and  rejoicings.       <  Pothinus  and  Achilias. 

must  end  in  his  downfall  and  min.  He  went 
away  from  the  assembly  moodily  determining 
that  he  would  not  submit  to  the  decision,  but 
would  immediately  adopt  efficient  measures  to 
prevent  its  being  carried  into  effect. 

Caesar  made  arrangements  for  a  series  of  fes- 
tivals and  celebrations,  to  commemorate  and 
confirm  the  re-establishment  of  a  good  under- 
standing between  the  king  and  the  queen,  and 
the  consequent  termination  of  the  war.  Suck 
celebrations,  he  judged,  would  have  great  influ- 
ence in  removing  any  remaining  animosities 
from  the  minds  of  the  people,  and  restore  the 
dominion  of  a  kind  and  friendly  feeling  through- 
out the  city.  The  people  fell  in  with  these 
measures,  and  cordially  co-operated  to  give 
them  effect ;  but  Pothinus  and  Achillas,  though 
they  suppressed  all  outward  expressions  of  dis- 
content, made  incessant  efforts  in  secret  to  or- 
ganize a  party,  and  to  form  plans  for  overthrow- 
ing the  influence  of  Caesar,  and  making  Ptole- 
my again  the  sole  and  exclusive  sovereign. 

Pothinus  represented  to  all  whom  he  could 
induce  to  listen  to  him  that  Caesar's  real  design . 
was  to  make  Cleopatra  queen  alone,  and  to  de- 
pose Ptolemy,  and  urged  them  to  combine  with 
him  to  resist  a  policy  which  would  end  in  bring- 


148  Clfopatra.  [B.C.  48 

Ho*  of  PoOUnof  and  Achilla*.  Eacape  of  AchUlaa 

ing  Egypt  under  the  dominion  of  a  woman. 
He  also  formed  a  plan,  in  connection  with  Achil* 
las,  for  ordering  the  army  back  from  Pelusium. 
The  army  consisted  of  thirty  thousand  men. 
If  that  army  could  be  brought  to  Alexandria 
and  kept  under  Pothinus's  orders,  Caesar  and  his 
three  thousand  Roman  soldiers  would  be,  they 
thought,  wholly  at  their  mercy. 

There  was,  however,  one  danger  to  be  guard- 
ed against  in  ordering  the  army  to  march  to- 
ward the  capital,  and  that  was,  that  Ptolemy, 
while  under  Caesar's  influence,  might  open  com- 
munications with  the  officers,  and  so  obtain 
command  of  its  movements,  and  thwart  all  the 
conspirators'  designs.  To  prevent  this,  it  was 
arranged  between  Pothinus  and  Achillas  that 
the  latter  should  make  his  escape  from  Alexan- 
dria, proceed  immediately  to  the  camp  at  Pelu- 
sium, resume  the  command  of  the  troops  there, 
and  conduct  them  himself  to  the  capital ;  and 
that  in  all  these  operations,  and  also  subse- 
quently on  his  arrival,  he  should  obey  no  or- 
lers  unless  they  came  to  him  through  Pothinua 
aimself. 

Although  sentinels  and  guards  wore  probably 
stationed  at  the  gates  and  avenues  leading  from 
the  oity,  Achillas  cortrived  to  efleot  his  escapt 


B.C. 48.]  Clkopatra  and  C^sar.         149 

March  of  the  Egyptian  army.  Heaaorea  of  Cntar 

and  to  join  the  army.  He  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  forces,  and  commenced  his  march 
toward  the  capital.  « Pothinus  remained  all  the 
time  within  the  city  as  a  spy,  pretending  to 
acquiesce  in  Caesar's  decision,  and  to  be  on 
friendly  terms  with  him,  but  really  plotting  for 
his  overthrow,  and  obtaining  all  the  information 
which  his  position  enabled  him  to  command,  in 
order  that  he  might  co-operate  with  the  army 
and  Achillas  when  they  should  arrive. 

All  these  things  were  done  with  the  utmost 
secrecy,  and  so  cunning  and  adroit  were  the 
conspirators  in  forming  and  executing  their 
plots,  that  Caesar  seems  to  have  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  the  measures  which  his  enemies  were 
taking,  until  he  suddenly  heard  that  the  main 
body  of  Ptolemy's  army  was  approaching  the 
city,  at  least  twenty  thousand  strong.  In  the 
mean  time,  however,  the  forces  which  he  had 
sent  for  from  Syria  had  not  arrived,  and  no  al- 
ternative was  left  but  to  defend  the  capital  and 
himself  as  well  as  he  could  with  the  very  small 
force  which  he  had  at  his  disposal- 
He  determined,  however,  first,  to  try  the  ef- 
fect of  orders  sent  out  in  Ptolemy's  name  to  for 
bid  the  approach  of  the  army  to  the  city.  Two 
effioers  were  accordingly  intrusted  with  thes* 


150  Clbopatra  [B.C.48 

Harder  of  tiwmaMeiigera.  latmlaaa  of  AcfafflM 

orders,  and  sent  out  to  oommnnicate  them  to 
Achillas.  The  names  of  these  officers  were  Di- 
oeoorides  and  Serapion.       . 

I*  shows  in  a  very  striking  point  of  view  to 
what  an  incredible  exaltation  the  authority  and 
oonsequence  of  a  sovereign  king  rose  in  those 
ancient  days,  in  the  minds  of  men,  that  Achil- 
las, at  the  moment  when  these  men  made  their 
appearance  in  the  camp,  bearing  evidently  some 
command  from  Ptolemy  in  the  city,  considered 
it  more  prudent  to  kill  them  at  once,  without 
hearing  their  message,  rather  than  to  allow  the 
orders  to  be  delivered  and  then  take  the  respon- 
sibility of  disobeying  them.  If  he  could  suc- 
ceed in  marching  to  Alexandria  and  in  taking 
possession  of  the  city,  and  then  in  expelling 
Csesar  and  Cleopatra  and  restoring  Ptolemy  to 
the  exclusive  possession  of  the  throne,  he  knew 
▼ery  well  that  the  king  would  rejoice  in  the  re- 
sult, and  would  overlook  all  irregularities  on  his 
part  in  the  means  by  which  he  had  accomplish- 
ed it,  short  of  absolute  disobedience  of  a  known 
command.  Whatever  might  be  the  commands 
that  these  messengers  were  bringing  him,  he 
supposed  that  they  doubtless  originated,  not  in 
Ptolemy's  own  free  will,  but  that  they  were  dio- 
Vktfd  by  the  authority  of  Caesar.     Still,  thejf 


B.C.4SJ  Cleopatra  and  C^sar.         151 

Oold-blooded  MisMtnatlon.  Advance  of  Aehlilat. 

would  be  commands  coming  in  Ptolemy's  name , 
and  the  universal  experience  of  officers  serving 
under  the  military  despots  of  those  ancient  days 
showed  that,  rather  than  to  take  the  responsi* 
bility  of  directly  disobeying  a  royal  order  once 
received,  it  was  safer  to  avoid  receiving  it  by 
murdering  the  messengers. 

Achillas  therefore  directed  the  officers  to  be 
seized  and  slain.  They  were  accordingly  tak- 
en off  and  speared  by  the  soldiers,  and  then  the 
bodies  were  borne  away.  The  soldiers,  how- 
ever, it  was  found,  had  not  done  their  work  ef- 
fectually. There  was  no  interest  for  them  in 
such  a  cold-blooded  assassination,  and  perhaps 
something  like  a  sentiment  of  compassion  re- 
strained their  hands.  At  any  rate,  though  both 
the  men  were  desperately  wounded,  one  only 
died.  .  The  other  lived  and  recovered. 

Achillas  continued  to  advance  toward  the 
city.  Ceesar,  finding  that  the  crisis  which  was 
approaching  was  becoming  very  serious  in  its 
character,  took,  himself,  the  whole  command 
within  the  capital,  and  began  to  make  the  best 
nrrangements  possible  under  the  circumstances 
of  the  case  to  defend  himself  there.  His  nam- 
hen  were  altogether  too  small  to  defend  th« 
whole  city  against  the  overwhelming  force  which 


152  Cleopatra.  [B.C  AS 

C*nr't  arruigementf  for  defenae.  Cleopatra  and  Ptokmy. 

was  advancing  to  assail  it.  He  accordingly  in- 
trenched his  troops  in  the  palaces  and  in  the 
citadel,  and  in  such  other  parts  of  the  city  as  it 
leomed  practicable  to  defend.  He  barricaded 
all  the  streets  and  avenues  leading  to  thes« 
points,  and  fortified  the  gates.  Nor  did  he, 
while  thus  doing  all  in  his  power  to  employ  the 
insufficient  means  of  defense  already  in  his 
hands  to  the  best  advantage,  neglect  the  proper 
exertions  for  obtaining  succor  from  abroad.  He 
sent  off  galleys  to  Syria,  to  Cyprus,  to  Rhodes, 
and  to  every  other  point  accessible  from  Alex- 
andria where  Roman  troops  might  be  expected 
to  be  found,  urging  the  authorities  there  to  for- 
ward re-enforcements  to  him  with  the  utmost 
possible  dispatch. 

During  all  this  time  Cleopatra  and  Ptolemy 
remained  in  the  palace  with  CsBsar,  both  osten- 
sibly oo-operating  with  him  in  his  councils  and 
measures  for  defending  the  city  from  Achillas, 
Cleopatra,  of  course,  was  sincere  and  in  earnest 
in  this  co-operation ;  but  Ptolemy's  adhesion  to 
the  common  cause  was  very  little  to  be  relied 
upon.  Although,  situated  as  he  was,  he  wa« 
compelled  to  seem  to  be  on  Caesar's  side,  h« 
must  have  secretly  desired  that  Achillas  shrnld 
•aooeed  and  Ccesar's  plans  be  overthrown     Po 


B.C. 48.]  Cleopatra  and  CiESAR.         153 

Double  dealing  at  Pothlnna.  He  i«  detected 

thinus  was  more  active,  though  not  less  cau- 
tious in  his  hostility  to  them.  He  opened  a  se- 
cret communication  with  Achillas,  sending  him 
information,  from  time  to  time,  of  what  took 
place  within  the  walls,  and  of  the  arrangements 
made  there  for  the  defense  of  the  city  against 
him,  and  gave  him  also  directions  how  to  pro- 
ceed. He  was  very  wary  and  sagacious  in  all 
these  movements,  feigning  all  the  time  to  be  on 
Ceesar's  side.  He  pretended  to  be  very  zealous- 
ly employed  in  aiding  Csesar  to  secure  more  ef- 
fectually the  various  points  where  attacks  were 
to  be  expected,  and  in  maturing  and  completing 
the  arrangements  for  defense. 

But,  notwithstanding  all  his  cunning,  he  was 
detected  in  his  double  dealing,  and  his  career 
was  suddenly  brought  to  a  close,  before  the  great 
final  conflict  came  on.  There  was  a  barber  in 
Caesar's  household,  who,  for  some  cause  or  oth- 
er, began  to  suspect  Pothinus ;  and,  having  lit- 
tle else  to  do,  he  employed  himself  in  watching 
the  eunuch's  movements  and  reporting  them  to 
Caesar  Csesar  directed  the  barber  to  continue 
his  observations.  He  did  so;  his  suspicions 
were  soon  confirmed,  and  at  length  a  letter, 
which  Pothinus  had  written  to  Achillas,  wa« 
intoroepted  ana  brou^nt  to  Ceesar.     This  fur 


154  Clbopatra.  [B.C.48 

rotJUnaa  behe«ded.  Anlnol  and  Ouijmeda 

nished  the  necessary  proof  of  what  they  called 
his  guilt,  and  Csesar  ordered  him  to  be  be- 
headed 

This  circumstance  produced,  of  course,  a 
great  excitement  within  the  palace,  for  Pothi- 
nus  had  been  for  many  years  the  great  ruling 
minister  of  state — the  king,  in  fact,  in  all  but 
in  name.  His  'execution  alarmed  a  great  man} 
others,  who,  though  in  Caesar's  power,  were  se 
cretly  wishing  that  Achillas  might  prevail 
Among  those  most  disturbed  by  these  fears  wa. 
a  man  named  Ganymede.  He  was  the  officer 
who  had  charge  of  Arsinoe,  Cleopatra's  sister. 
The  arrangement  which  Csesar  had  proposed  for 
establishing  her  in  conjunction  with  her  brother 
Ptolemy  over  the  island  of  Cyprus  had  not  gone 
into  effect ;  for,  immediately  after  the  decision 
of  CsBsar,  the  attention  of  all  concerned  had 
been  wholly  engrossed  by  the  tidi2gs  of  the  ad- 
vance of  the  army,  and  by  thfe  busy  prepara- 
tions which  were  required  on  all  hands  for  the 
impending  contest.  Arsinoe,  therefore,  with  hei 
governor  Ganymede,  remained  in  the  peilaoe. 
Ganymede  had  joined  Pothinus  in  his  plots; 
»nd  when  Pothinus  was  beheaded,  he  concluded 
that  it  would  be  safest  for  him  to  fly. 

He  accordingly  resolved  to  make  hi»  escape 


B.C. 48.]  Cleopatra  and  Cmsar.        155 

fU«[ht  of  Aninot.  She  U  proclaimed  queen  by  the  army 

from  the  city,  taking  Arsinoe  with  him.  It  wai 
a  very  hazardous  attempt,  but  he  succeeded  ir 
accomplishing  it.  Arsinoe  was  very  willing  tc 
go,  for  she  was  now  beginning  to  be  old  enough 
to  feel  the  impulse  of  that  insatiable  and  reck- 
less ambition  which  seemed  to  form  such  an  es- 
sential element  in  the  character  of  every  son 
and  daughter  in  the  whole  Ptolemaic  line.  She 
was  insignificant  and  powerless  where  she  was, 
but  at  the  head  of  the  army  she  might  become 
immediately  a  queen. 

It  resulted,  in  the  first  instance,  as  she  had 
anticipated.  Achillas  and  his  army  received 
her  with  acclamations.  Under  Ganymede's  in- 
fluence they  decided  that,  as  all  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  royal  family  were  in  durance,  being 
held  captive  by  a  foreign  general,  who  had  by 
chance  obtained  possession  of  the  capital,  and 
were  thus  incapacitated  for  exercising  the  royal 
power,  the  crown  devolved  upon  Arsinoe ;  and 
they  accordingly  proclaimed  her  queen. 

Every  thing  was  now-  prepared  for  a  despe- 
rate and  determined  contest  for  the  crown  be- 
tnreen  Cleopatra,  with  Caesar  for  her  ministei 
and  general,  on  the  one  side,  and  Arsinoe,  with 
Ganymede  and  Achillas  for  her  chief  officers, 
on  the  other.    The  young  Ptolemy,  in  the  me^^ 


166  Clecpatra.  [B.C.  48 

Perplexity  of  the  young  Ptolemy. 

time,  remained  Ccesar's  prisoner,  confused  with 
the  intricacies  in  which  the  quarrel  had  become 
involved,  and  scarcely  knowing  now  what  to 
wish  in  respect  to  the  issue  of  the  contest.  It 
was  very  difficult  to  foresee  whether  it  would 
be  best  for  him  that  Cleopatra  or  that  Arsinoe 
■hoiild  succeed. 


B.C. 47.]  The   Alexandrine   War.     157 

Tha  Alexandrine  war.  ForoM  at  Ckmv 


Chapter   VII. 

The   Alexandrine  War. 

rriHE  war  which  ensued  as  the  result  of  thk 
■'-  intrigues  and  maneuvers  described  in  the 
last  chapter  is  known  in  the  history  of  Rome 
and  Julius  Caesar  as  the  Alexandrine  war.  The 
events  which  occurred  during  the  progress  of  it, 
and  its  termination  at  last  in  the  triumph  of 
CaBsar  and  Cleopatra,  will  form  the  subject  of 
this  chapter. 

Achillas  had  greatly  the  advantage  over  Cae- 
sar at  the  outset  of  the  contest,  in  respect  to 
the  strength  of  the  forces  under  his  command. 
Caesar,  in  fact,  had  with  him  only  a  detachment 
of  three  or  four  thousand  men,  a  small  body  of 
troops  which  he  had  hastUy  put  on  board  a  little 
squadron  of  Rhodian  galleys  for  pursuing  Pom- 
pey  across  the  Mediterranean.  When  he  set 
sail  from  ti.e  European  shores  with  this  incon- 
siderable fleet,  it  is  probable  that  he  had  no  ex- 
pectation even  of  landing  in  Egypt  at  all,  and 
mach  less  of  being  involved  in  great  military 
mndertakings   there.     Achillas,  on    the  othe* 


158  Cleopatra  [B.C.47 

Tkb  EfTptlan  •my.  FngldTe  ■!«▼«■ 

hand,  was  at  the  head  of  a  force  of  twenty  thou- 
sand effective  men.  His  troops  were,  it  is  true, 
of  a  somewhat  miscellaneous  character,  but 
they  were  all  veteran  soldiers,  inured  to  the  cli- 
mate of  Egypt,  and  skilled  in  all  the  modes  of 
warfare  which  were  suited  to  the  character  of 
the  country.  Some-  of  them  were  Roman  sol- 
diers, men  who  had  come  with  the  army  of 
Mark  Antony  from  Syria  when  Ptolemy  Au- 
letes,  Cleopatra^s  father,  was  reinstated  on  the 
throne,  and  had  been  left  in  Egypt,  in  Ptole* 
my's  service,  when  Antony  returned  to  Rome 
Some  were  native  Egyptians.  There  was  alsa 
in  the  army  of  Achillas  a  large  number  of  fu- 
gitive slaves — ^refugees  who  had  made  their  es- 
cape from  various  points  along  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean,  at  different  periods,  and  had 
been  from  time  to  time  incorporated  into  the 
Egy]>tian  army.  These  fugitives  were  all  men 
of  the  most  determined  and  desperate  character 
Achillas  had  also  in  his  command  a  force  of 
two  thousand  horse.  Such  a  body  of  cavalry 
made  him,  of  course,  perfect  master  of  all  the 
open  country  outside  the  city  walls.  At  the 
bead  of  these  troops  Achillas  gradually  advanced 
ti  the  very  gates  of  Alexandria,  in\ested  the 
•ity  on  every  side,  and  shut  Csesar  closely  in. 


B.C. 47,]  The    Alexandrine   Wa.r.     159 

Da&geroua  iltuatioii  of  CasMur.  Preaence  of  Cibmk 

The  danger  of  the  situation  in  which  Csesar 
was  placed  was  extreme ;  but  he  had  been  so 
accustomed  to  succeed  in  extricating  himself 
from  the  most  imminent  perils,  that  neither  he 
himself  nor  his  army  seem  to  have  experienced 
any  concern  in  respect  to  the  result.  Caesar 
personally  felt  a  special  pride  and  pleasure  in 
encountering  the  difficulties  and  dangers  which 
now  beset  him,  because  Cleopatra  was  with  him 
to  witness  his  demeanor,  to  admire  his  energy 
and  courage,  and  to  reward  by  her  love  the  ef- 
forts and  sacrifices  which  he  was  making  in  es- 
pousing her  cause.  She  confided  every  thing 
to  him,  but  she  watched  all  the  proceedings 
with  the  most  eager  interest,  elated  with  hope 
in  respect  to  the  result,  and  proud  of  the  cham- 
pion who  had  thus  volunteered  to  defend  her 
In  a  word,  her  heart  was  full  of  gratitude,  ad- 
miration, and  love. 

The  immediate  effect,  too,  of  the  emotions 
which  she  felt  so  strongly  was  greatly  to  height- 
en her  natural  charms.  The  native  force  and  7 
energy  of  her  character  were  softened  and  sub-  J 
daed.  Her  voice,  which  always  possessed  a  cer- 
tain inexpressible  charm,  was  endued  with  new 
■weetness  through  the  influence  of  affection 
Her  oonntenanoe  beamed  with  -fresh  aniruatioo 


160  Cleopatra.  fB.C.47 

bflueDoa  of  Cleop«ir«.  Flrtt  meainrai  of  pasar 

and  beauty,  and  the  sprightliness  and  vivacity 
of  her  character,  which  became  at  later  periodi 
of  her  life  boldness  and  eccentricity,  now  being 
softened  and  restrained  within  proper  limits  by 
the  respectful  regard  with  which  she  looked 
upon  CsBsar,  made  her  an  enchanting  oompan> 
ion.  Caesar  was,  in,  fact,  entirely  intoxicated 
with  the  fascinations  which  she  unconsciously 
display  ei. 

Under  other  circumstances  than  these,  a  per- 
sonal attachment  so  strong,  formed  by  a  mili- 
tary commander  while  engaged  in  active  serv- 
ice, might  have  been  expected  to  interfere  in 
some  degree  with  the  discharge  of  his  duties ; 
but  in  this  case,  since  it  was  for  Cleopatra's 
sake  and  in  her  behalf  that  the  operations  which 
CsBsar  had  undertaken  were  to  be  prosecuted, 
his  love  for  her  only  stimulated  the  spirit  and 
energy  with  which  he  engaged  in  them. 

The  first  measure  to  be  adopted  was,  as 
Csesar  plainly  perceived,  to  concentrate  and 
strength  en  his  position  in  the  city,  so  that  he 
might  be  able  to  defend  himself  there  against 
Achillas  until  he  should  receive  re-enforcements 
from  abroad.  For  this  purpose  he  selected  a 
certain  group  of  palaces  and  citadels  which  lay 
togcth<)r  near  the  head  of  the  long  pier  or  cause- 


B.C.  47 .j  Thb  Alexandrine  War.       16J 

C«su't  itores.  MlUtary  engine* 

way  which  led  to  the  Pharos,  and,  withdrawing 
his  troops  from  all  other  parts  of  the  city,  estab- 
lished  them  there.  The  quarter  which  he  thus 
occupied  contained  the  great  city  arsenals  and 
public  granaries.  Csesar  brought  together  all 
the  arms  and  munitions  of  war  which  he  could 
find  in  other  parts  of  the  city,  and  also  all  the 
corn  and  other  provisions  which  were  contained 
either  in  the  public  depots  or  in  private  ware- 
houses, and  stored  the  whole  within  his  lines. 
He  then  inclosed  the  whole  quarter  with  strong 
defenses.  The  avenues  leading  to  it  were  bar- 
ricaded  with  walls  of  stone.  Houses  in  the  vi- 
cinity which  might  have  afforded  shelter  to  an 
enemy  were  demolished,  and  the  materials  used 
in  constructing  walls  wherever  they  were  need- 
ed, or  in  strengthening  the  barricades.  Prodi- 
gious military  engines,  made  to  throw  heavy 
stones,  and  beams  of  wood,  and  other  ponderous 
missiles,  were  «et  up  within  his  lines,  and  open- 
ings  were  made  in  the  walls  and  other  defenses 
of  the  citadel,  wherever  necassary,  to  facilitate 
the  action  of  these  machines* 

There  was  a  strong  fortress  situated  at  the 
head  of  the  pier  or  mole  leading  to  the  island  of 
Pharos,  which  was  without  Caesar's  lines,  and 
still  in  the  nands  of  the  Egyptian  authorities. 

16—11 


162 


The  mole. 


Cleopatra. 


[B.C.  47 


View  of  Alexandria 


The  Egyptians  thus  commanded  the  entrance 
to  the  mole.  The  island  itself,  also,  with  the 
fortress  at  the  other  end  of  the  pier,  was  still  in 
the  possession  of  the  Egyptian  authorities,  who 
seemed  disposed  to  hold  it  for  Achillas.  The 
mole  was  very  long,  as  the  island  was  nearly  a 
mile  from  the  shore.  There  was  quite  a  little 
town  upon  the  island  itself,  besides  the  fortress 


View  of  Alexandria. 


or  castle  built  there  to  defend  the  place.  The 
garrison  of  this  castle  was  strong,  and  the  in- 
habitants of  the  town,  too,  constituted  a  some- 


B.C.47.]  The  Alexandeine  War.      163 

Necessity  of  taking  possession  of  the  mole.  Egyptian  fleet. 

what  formidable  population,  as  they  consisted 
of  fishermen^  sailors,  wreckers,  and  such  other 
desperate  characters  as  usually  congregate  about 
such  a  spot.  Cleopatra  and  Csesar,  from  the 
windows  of  their  palace  within  the  city,  looked 
out  upon  this  island,  with  the  tall  light-house 
rising  in  the  center  of  it  and  the  castle  at  its 
base,  and  upon  the  long  and  narrow  isthmus 
connecting  it  with  the  main  land,  and  conclud- 
ed that  it  was  very  essential  that  they  should 
get  possession  of  the  post,  commanding,  as  it 
did,  the  entrance  to  the  harbor. 

In  the  harbor,  too,  which,  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  engraving,  was  on  the  south  side  of  the 
mole,  and,  consequently,  on  the  side  opposite  to 
that  from  which  Achillas  was  advancing  toward 
the  city,  there  were  lying  a  large  number  of 
Egyptian  vessels,  some  dismantled,  and  others 
manned  and  armed  more  or  less  effectively. 
These  vessels  had  not  yet  come  into  Achiilas's- 
hands,  but  it  would  be  certain  that  he  would 
take  possession  of  them  as  soon  as  he  should 
gain  admittance  to  those  parts  of  the  city  which 
Caesar  had  abandoned.  This  it  was  extremely 
important  to  prevent ;  for,  if  Achillas  held  this 
fleet,  especially  if  he  continued  to  command  the 
island  of  Pharos,  he  would  be  perfect  master  of 


164  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  47. 

C«Mr  bona  the  ■Upplag.  Th»  fort  I 


all  the  approaohes  to  the  city  on  the  side  of  the 
tea.  He  could  then  not  only  receive  re-enforoe- 
ments  and  supplies  himself  from  that  quarter, 
but  he  could  also  effectually  out  off  the  Roman 
army  from  all  possibility  of  receiving  any.  It 
became,  therefore,  as  Caesar  thought,  imperi- 
ously necessary  that  he  should  protect  himself 
from  this  danger.  This  he  did  by  sending  out 
an  expedition  to  burn  all  the  shipping  in  the 
harbor,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  take  possession 
of  a  certain  fort  upon  the  island  of  Pharos  which 
commanded  the  entrance  to  the  port.  This 
undertaking  was  abundantly  successful.  The 
troops  burned  the  shipping,  took  the  fort,  ex- 
pelled the  Egyptian  soldiers  from  it,  and  put  a 
Roman  garrison  into  it  instead,  and  then  re- 
turned in  safety  within  Csesar's  lines.  Cleopa- 
tra witnessed  these  exploits  from  her  palace 
windows  with  feelings  of  the  highest  admira^ 
tion  for  the  energy  and  valor  which  her  Romsui 
protectors  displayed. 

The  burning  of  the  Egyptian  ships  in  this  ac- 
tion, however  fortunate  for  Cleopatra  and  Cae- 
sar, was  attended  with  a  catastrophe  which  hat 
ever  since  been  lamented  by  the  whole  civilized 
world.  Some  of  the  burning  ships  were  driven 
by  the  wind  to  th«  shore.  wh«re  they  set  fire  tr 


i3,C.47.J  The   Alexandrine   War.     165 


Burning  of  Alexandria.  Achlllu  behekdeA 

the  buildings  which  were  contiguous  to  th* 
water.  The  flames  spread  and  produced  an 
extensive  conflagration,  in  the  course  of  which 
the  largest  part  of  the  great  library  was  de- 
stroyed. This  library  was  the  only  general  col- 
lection of  the  ancient  writings  that  ever  had 
been  made,  and  the  loss  of  it  was  never  repaired. 

The  destruction  of  the  Egyptian  fleet  result- 
ed also  in  the  downfall  and  ruin  of  Achillas. 
From  the  time  of  Arsinoe's  arrival  in  the  camp 
there  had  been  a  constant  rivalry  and  jealousy 
between  himself  and  Ganymede,  the  eunuch 
who  had  accompanied  Arsinoe  in  her  flight. 
Two  parties  had  been  formed  in  the  army,  some 
declaring  for  Achillas  and  some  for  Ganymede. 
Arsinoe  advocated  Ganymede's  interests,  and 
when,  at  length,  the  fleet  was  burned,  she 
charged  Achillas  with  having  been,  by  his  neg- 
lect or  incapacity,  the  cause  of  the  loss.  Achil- 
las was  tried,  condemned,  and  beheaded.  From 
that  time  Ganymede  assumed  the  administra- 
tion  of  Arsinoe's  government  as  her  minister  of 
state  and  the  commander-in-chief  of  her  armies 

About  the  time  rhat  these  occurrences  took 
plac«,  the  Egypli^i  army  advanced  into  those 
parts  of  the  city  from  which  Csesar  had  with- 
drawn, producing  those  terrible  scenes  of  Dania 


16A  Clbopatea.  [fiC.47 

ftmt  at  Qtmjwmim.  Bb  vifoipu  ■«•■»« 

and  oonfusion  which  always  attend  a  sudden 
and  violent  change  of  military  possession  withia 
the  precincts  of  a  city.  Ganymede  brought  up 
his  troops  on  every  side  to  the  walls  of  Ceesar's 
citadels  and  intrenchments,  and  hemmed  hira 
closely  in.  He  cut  off  all  avenues  of  approach 
to  CsBsar's  lines  by  land,  and  commenced  vigor- 
ous preparations  for  an  assault.  He  construct- 
ed engines  for  battering  down  the  walls.  He 
opened  shops  and  established  forges  in  every 
part  of  the  city  for  the  manufacture  of  darts, 
spears,  pikes,  and  all  kinds  of  military  machin- 
ery. He  built  towers  supported  upon  huge 
wheels,  with  the  design  of  filling  them  with 
armed  men  when  finally  ready  to  make  his  as- 
sault upon  CsBsar'a  lines,  and  moving  them  up 
to  the  walls  of  the  citadels  and  palaces,  so  as 
to  give  to  his  soldiers  the  advantage  of  a  lofty 
elevation  in  making  their  attacks.  He  levied 
eontributions  on  the  rich  citizens  for  the  neces- 
sary funds,  and  provided  himself  with  men  by 
pressing  all  the  artisans,  laborers,  and  men  ca- 
pable of  bearing  arms  into  his  service.  He  sent 
messengers  back  into  the  interior  of  the  coun- 
try, in  every  direction,  summoning  the  people 
to  arms,  and  calling  for  contributions  :>{  tnone;? 
and  military  stores 


B.C. 47.]  The   Alexandrine  War.    167 

MaMengen  of  Qanyineda.  Their  Initructloiiai 

The.se  messengers  were  instructed  to  urge 
apon  the  people  that,  unless  CsBsar  and  his  army 
were  at  onoe  expelled  from  Alexandria,  there 
«raf  imminent  danger  that  the  national  inde- 
pendence of  Egypt  would  be  forever  destroyed. 
The  Romans,  they  were  to  say,  had  extended 
their  conquests  over  almost  all  the  rest  of  the 
world.  They  had  sent  one  army  into  Egypt 
before,  under  the  command  of  Mark  Antony, 
under  the  pretense  of  restoring  Ptolemy  Auletes 
to  the  throne.  Now  another  commander,  with 
another  force,  had  come,  offering  some  other 
pretexts  for  interfering  in  their  affairs.  These 
Roman  encroachments,  the  messengers  were  to 
say,  would  end  in  the  complete  subjugation  of 
Egypt  to  a  foreign  power,  unless  the  people  of 
the  country  aroused  themselves  to  meet  the 
danger  manfully,  and  to  expel  the  intruders. 

As  Caesar  had  possession  of  the  island  of 
Pharos  and  of  the  harbor,  Ganymede  could  not 
out  him  off  from  receiving  such  re-enforcementa 
of  men  and  arms  as  he  might  make  arrange- 
ments for  obtaining  beyond  the  sea  ;  nor  could 
he  curtail  his  supply  of  food,  as  the  granaries 
and  magazines  within  Caesar's  quarter  of  the 
city  contained  almost  inexhaustible  stores  of 
oom.     There  was*  one  remaining  point  essential 


168  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  47 

eanpned*  eoU  off  CaMi'iropply  of  water.  Pauls  of  the  aoldlan 

to  the  subsistence  of  an  army  besieged,  and  that 
was  an  abundant  supply  of  water.  The  palaces 
and  citadels  which  CsBsar  occupied  were  sup- 
plied with  water  by  means  of  numerous  sub- 
terranean aqueducts,  which  conveyed  the  wa- 
ter from  the  Nile  to  yast  cisterns  built  under 
ground,  whence  it  was  raised  by  buckets  and 
hydraulic  engines  for  use.  In  reflecting  upon 
this  circumstance,  Ganymede  conceived  the  de- 
si^  of  secretly  digging  a  canal,  so  as  to  turn 
*he  waters  of  the  sea  by  means  of  it  into  these 
aqueducts.  This  plan  he  carried  into  effect 
The  consequence  was,  that  the  water  in  the 
cisterns  was  gradually  changed.  It  became 
first  brackish,  then  more  and  more  salt  and  bit- 
ter, until,  at  length,  it  was  wholly  impossible 
to  use  it.  For  some  time  the  army  within 
c<uild  not  understand  these  changes ;  and  when, 
at  length,  they  discovered  tlie  cause,  the  soldiers 
were  panic-stricken  at  the  thought  that  they 
were  now  apparently  wholly  at  the  mercy  of 
their  enemies,  since,  without  supplies  of  water, 
they  must  all  immediately  perish.  They  c«n- 
tidered  it  hopeless  to  attempt  any  longer  to  hold 
out,  and  urged  Caesar  to  evacuate  the  city, 
embark  on  board  his  galleys,  and  proceed  to  sea 
Instead  of  doing  this,  however,  Ceesar,  order 


B.C.47.J  The  Alexandrine  War        169 

C»8«r't  wella.  Arrival  of  the  trautports 

ing  all  other  operations  to  be  suspended,  em- 
ployed the  whole  laboring  force  of  his  command, 
under  the  direction  of  the  captains  of  the  sev- 
eral companies,  in  digging  wells  in  every  part 
of  his  quarter  of  the  city.  Fresh  water,  he  said, 
was  almost  invariably  found,  at  a  moderate 
depth,  upon  sea-coasts,  even  upon  ground  lying 
in  very  close  proximity  with  the  sea.  The  dig- 
gings were  successful.  Fresh  water,  in  great 
abundance,  was  found.  Thus  this  danger  was 
passed,  and  the  men's  fears  effectually  relieved. 
A  short  time  after  these  transactions  occur- 
red, there  came  into  the  harbor  one  day,  from 
along  the  shore  west  of  the  city,  a  small  sloop, 
bringing  the  intelligence  that  a  squadron  of 
transports  had  arrived  upon  the  coast  to  th6 
westward  of  Alexandria,  and  had  anchored 
there,  being  unable  to  come  up  to  the  city  on 
account  of  an  easterly  wind  which  prevailed  at 
that  season  of  the  year.  This  squadron  was 
one  which  ha^  been  sent  across  the  Mediter- 
ranean with  arms,  ammunition,  and  military 
stores  for  Caisar,  in  answer  to  requisitions  which 
he  had  made  immediately  after  he  had  landed. 
The  transports  being  thus  wind-bound  on  the 
ooast,  and  having  nearly  exhausted  their  sup- 
plies of  water,  were  in  distress ;  and  they  ac- 


170  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  47 

Tlie  tnuuporti  in  itWiiM,  Lowseu  ai  itM  mmI 

oordingly  sent  forward  the  sloop,  which  wm 
probably  propelled  by  oars,  to  make  known  their 
situation  to  Ceesar,  and  to  ask  for  succor.  CtB- 
gar  immediately  went,  himself,  on  board  of  one 
of  his  galleys,  and  ordering  the  remainder  of  his 
little  fleet  to  follow  him,  he  set  sail  out  of  the 
harbor,  and  then  turned  to  the  westward,  with 
a  view  of  proceeding  along  the  coast  to  the  place 
where  the  transports  were  lying. 

All  this  was  done  secretly.  The  land  is  so 
low  in  the  vicinity  of  Aloxandria  that  boats  or 
galleys  are  out  of  sight  from  it  at  a  very  short 
distance  from  the  shore.  In  fact,  travelers  say 
that,  in  coming  upon  the  coast,  the  illusion  pro- 
duced by  the  spherical  form  of  the  surface  of 
the  water  and  the  low  and  level  character  of  the 
coast  is  such  that  one  seems  actually  to  descend 
from  the  sea  to  the  land.  Ceesar  might  there- 
fore have  easily  kept  his  expedition  a  secret, 
had  it  not  been  that,  in  order  to  be  provided 
with  a  supply  of  water  for  the  transports  imme- 
diately on  reaching  them,  he  stepped  at  a  soli- 
tary part  of  the  coast,  at  some  distance  from 
Alexandria,  and  sent  a  party  a  little  way  mto 
the  interior  in  search  for  water.  This  party 
were  discovered  by  the  country  people,  and  were 
intercepted  by  a  troop  of  hors«  and  made  »ri» 


B.C. 47.]  The  Alkxandrine  War.       171 

A  ooMbNt  Cmtu  raeeaMftd 

oners.  From  these  prise nei-s  the  Egyptians 
learned  that  CsBsar  himself  was  on  the  coast 
with  a  small  squadron  of  galleys.  The  tidings 
spread  in  all  directions.  The  people  flocked  to- 
gether  frorr.  every  quarter.  They  hastily  col- 
lected all  the  boats  and  vessels  which  could  be 
obtained  at  the  villages  in  that  region  and  from 
the  various  branches  of  the  Nile.  In  the  mean 
time,  Caesar  had  gone  on  to  the  anchorage 
ground  of  the  squadron,  and  had  taken  the  tran- 
sports in  tow  to  bring  them  to  the  city  ;  for  the 
galleys,  being  propelled  by  oars,  were  in  a  meas- 
ure independent  of  the  wind.  On  his  return, 
he  found  quite  a  formidable  naval  armament 
assembled  to  dispute  the  passage. 
,  A  severe  conflict  ensued,  but  Caesar  was  vic- 
torious. The  navy  which  the  Egyptians  had 
so  suddenly  got  together  w;as  as  suddenly  de- 
stroyed. Some  of  the  vessels  were  burned,  oth- 
ers sunk,  and  others  captured ;  and  Caesar  re- 
turned in  triumph  to  the  port  with  his  trans- 
ports and  stores.  He  was  welcomed  with  the 
acclamations  of  his  soldiers,  and,  still  more 
warmly,  by  the  joy  and  gratitude  of  Cleopatra, 
who  had  been  waiting  during  his  absence  in 
great  anxiety  and  suspens-e  to  know  the  result 
of  the  expedition,  aware  as  she  wa.s  that  hei 


173  Clbopatsa.  [B.C.  47 

Sanynede  Mpdpa  •  fleet  A  aaTal  oonfltei 

hero  was  exposing  himself  in  it  to  the  most  im- 
minent personal  danger. 

The  arrival  of  these  re-enforcements  greatly 
Improved  Caesar's  condition,  and  the  circum- 
stance of  their  coming  forced  upon  the  mind  of 
Ganymede  a  sense  of  the  absolute  necessity  that 
he  should  gain  possession  of  the  harbor  if  he  in- 
tended to  keep  Caesar  in  check.  He  according- 
ly determined  to  take  immediate  measures  for 
forming  a  naval  force.  He  sent  along  the  coast, 
and  ordered  every  ship  and  galley  that  could  ba 
found  in  all  the  ports  to  be  sent  immediately  to 
Alexandria.  He  employed  as  many  men  as 
possible  in  and  around  the  city  in  building  more 
He  unroofed  some  of  the  most  magnificent  edi- 
fices  to  procure  timber  as  a  material  for  making 
benches  and  oars.  When  all  was  ready,  he 
made  a  grand  attack  upon  Caesar  in  the  port, 
and  a  terrible  contest  ensued  for  the  possession 
of  the  harbor,  the  mole,  the  island,  and  the  cit- 
adels and  fortresses  commanding  the  entrances 
from  the  sea.  Caesar  well  knew  that  this  ocn- 
test  would  be  a  decisive  one  in  respect  to  the 
final  result  of  the  war,  and  he  accordingly  went 
forth  himself  to  take  an  active  and  personal  part 
in  the  conflict.  He  felt  doubtless,  too,  a  strong 
emotion  of  pride  and  pleasure  in  exhibiting  hit 


B.C. 47.]  The  Alexandrine  War.       173 

Cesar  In  danger.  Another  Tletory 

prowess  in  the  sight  of  Cleopatra,  who  could 
watch  the  progress  of  the  battle  from  the  palace 
windows,  full  of  excitement  at  the  dangers 
which  he  incurred,  and  of  admiration  at  the 
feats  of  strength  and  valor  which  he  performed, 
During  this  battle  the  life  of  the  great  conquer 
or  was  several  times  in  the  most  imminent  dan- 
ger. He  wore  a  habit  or  mantle  of  the  impe- 
rial purple,  which  made  him  a  conspicuous  mark 
for  his  enemies  ;  and,  of  course,  wherever  he 
went,  in  that  place  was  the  hottest  of  the  fight. 
Once,  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  of  most  dreadful 
confusion  and  din,  he  leaped  from  an  overloaded 
boat  into  the  water  and  swam  for  his  life,  hold- 
ing his  cloak  between  his  teeth  and  drawing  it 
through  the  water  after  him,  that  it  might  not 
fall  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  He  carried, 
at  the  same  time,  as  he  swam,  certain  valuable 
papers  which  he  wished  to  save,  holding  them 
above  his  head  with  one  hand,  while  he  pro- 
pelled himself  through  the  water  with  the 
other. 

The  result  of  this  aontest  was  another  deoi- 
•ive  victory  for  Caesar  Not  only  were  the  ships 
which  the  Egyptians  had  collected  defeated  and 
destroyed,  but  the  mole,  with  the  fortrefses  at 
•ach  extremity  of  it,  and  the  island,  with  the 


174  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  47. 

rhe  Egyptians  discouraged.  Secret  messengera. 

light-house  and  the  town  of  Pharos,  all  fell  into 
Caesar's  hands. 

The  Egyptians  now  began  to  be  discouraged. 
The  army  and  the  people,  judging, as  mankind 
always  do,  of  the  virtue  of  their  military  com- 
manders solely  by  the  criterion  of  success,  be- 
gan to  be  tired  of  the  rule  of  Ganymede  and 
Arsinoe.  They  sent  secret  messengers  to  Cae- 
sar avowing  their  discontent,  and  saying  that, 
if  he  would  liberate  Ptolemy — who,  it  will  be 
recollected,  had  been  all  this  time  held  as  a  sort 
of  prisoner  of  state  in  Caesar's  palaces — they 
thought  that  the  people  generally  would  receive 
him  as  their  sovereign,  and  that  then  an  ar- 
rangement might  easily  be  made  for  an  amica- 
ble adjustment  of  the  whole  controversy.  Cae- 
sar was  strongly  inclined  to  accede  to  tins  pro- 
posal. 

He  accordingly  called  Ptolemy  into  his  pres- 
ence, and,  taking  him  kindly  by  the  hand,  in- 
formed him  of  the  wishes  of  the  people  of  Egypt, 
and  gave  him  permission  to  go.  Ptolemy,  how- 
ever, begged  not  to  be  sent  away.  He  profess- 
ed the  strongest  attachment  to  Caesar,  and  the 
utmost  confidence  in  him,  and  he  very  much 
preferred,  he  said,  to  remain  under  his  protec- 
tion.    Caesar  rep'-.ed  that,  if  those  were  his  sen- 


fl.C  47.]  The  Alexandrine  War.       175 

DiMimalftdon  of  Ptolemy.  Arrival  of  Mithrtdata*. 


timerts,  the  separation  would  not  be  a  lasting 
one.  "  If  we  part  as  friends,"  he  said,  "  we 
shall  soon  meet  again."  By  these  and  similar 
assurances  he  endeavored  to  encourage  th 
young  prince,  and  then  sent  him  away.  Ptol 
emy  wa.^  received  by  the  Egyptians  with  great 
joy,  and  was  immediately  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  government.  Instead,  however,  of  endeav- 
oring to  promote  a  settlement  of  the  quarrel 
with  Caesar,  he  seemed  to  enter  into  it  now  him- 
self, personally,  with  the  utmost  ardor,  and  be 
gan  at  once  to  make  the  most  extensive  prepa- 
rations both  by  sea  and  land  for  a  vigorous  pros- 
ecution of  the  war.  What  the  result  of  these 
operations  would  have  been  can  now  not  be 
known,  for  the  general  aspect  of  affairs  was, 
soon  after  these  transactions,  totally  changed 
by  the  occurrence  of  a  new  and  very  important 
event  which  suddenly  intervened,  and  which 
turned  the  attention  of  all  parties,  both  Egyp- 
tians and  Romans,  to  the  eastern  quarter  of 
the  kingdom  The  tidings  arrived  that  a  large 
army,  under  the  command  of  a  general  named 
Mithradates,  whom  Csesar  had  dispatched  into 
Asia  for  this  purpose,  had  suddenly  appeared  at 
Pelusium.  had  captured  that  city,  and  wej« 
now  ready  to  '^*  rch  to  Alexandria. 


176  Cleopatra.  [B.C  47 

Defeat  of  Ptolemy.  Terror  and  confaakiA 

The  Egyptian  army  immediately  broke  up 
its  encampments  in  the  neighborhood  of  Alex- 
andria, and  marched  to  the  eastward  to  meet 
these  new  invaders.  Caesar  followed  them  with 
all  the  forces  that  he  could  safely  take  away 
from  the  city.  He  left  the  city  in  tl"^  night 
and  unobserved,  and,  moved  across  the  country 
with  such  celerity  that  he  joined  Mithradates 
before  the  forces  of  Ptolemy  had  arrived.  After 
various  marches  and  maneuvers,  the  armies  met, 
and  a  great  battle  was  fought.  The  Egyptians 
were  defeated.  Ptolemy's  camp  was  taken. 
As  the  Roman  army  burst  in  upon  one  side  of 
it,  the  guards  and  attendants  of  Ptolemy  fled 
upon  the  other,  clambering  over  the  ramparts 
in  the  utmost  terror  and  confusion.  The  fore- 
most fell  headlong  into  the  ditch  below,  which 
was  thus  soon  filled  to  the  brim  with  the  dead 
and  the  dying;  while  those  who  came  behind 
pressed  on  over  the  bridge  thus  formed,  tramp- 
ling remorselessly,  as  they  fled,  on  the  bodies  of 
their  comrades,  who  lay  writhing,  struggling, 
and  shrieking  beneath  their  feet.  Those  who 
escaped  reached  the  river.  They  crowded  to- 
gether into  a  boat  which  lay  at  the  bank  and 
poshed  off*  from  the  shore.  The  boat  was  over- 
loaded, and  it  sank  as  soon  as  it  left  the  land 


B.C.47.J  The   ALEXA^fDRINE   War.     177 

Dmth  of  Ptolemy.  Cloopatn  queen 

The  Romans  drew  the  bodies  which  floated  tc 
the  shore  up  upon  the  bank  again,  and  they 
found  among  them  one,  which,  by  the  royal 
cuirass  which  was  upon  it,  the  customary  badge 
and  armor  of  the  Egyptian  kings,  they  knew  to 
be  the  body  of  Ptolemy. 

The  victory  which  Csesar  obtained  in  this 
battle  and  the  death  of  Ptolemy  ended  the  war. 
Nothing  now  remained  but  for  him  to  place 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  combined  forces  and 
march  back  to  Alexandria.  The  Egyptian 
forces  which  had  been  left  there  made  no  resist- 
ance, and  he  entered  the  city  in  triumph.  He 
took  Arsinoe  prisoner.  He  decreed  that  Cleo- 
patra should  reign  as  queen,  and  that  she  should 
marry  her  youngest  brother,  the  other  Ptolemy 
— a  boy  at  this  time  about  eleven  years  of  age 
A  marriage  with  one  so  young  was,  of  course, 
a  mere  form.  Cleopatra  remained,  as  before, 
the  companion  of  Caesar. 

CsBsar  had,  in  the  mean  time,  incurred  great 
censure  at  Rome,  and  throughout  the  whole 
Roman  world,  for  having  thus  turned  aside  from 
his  own  proper  duties  as  the  Roman  consul,  and 
the  commander-in-chief  of  the  armies  of  tha 
♦  r  ipire,  to  embroil  himself  in  the  quarrels  of  a 

»mote  and  secluded  kingdom,  with  which  the 

16—12 


178  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  47 

Q«aeral  tOMpprobatlon  of  C«m 


interests  of  the  Roman  commonwealth  were 
so  little  connected.  His  friends  and  the  au- 
thorities at  Rome  were  continually  urging  him 
to  return.  They  were  especially  indignant  at 
his  proti  acted  neglect  of  his  own  proper  duties, 
from  knowing  that  he  was  held  in  Egypt  by  a 
guilty  attachment  to  the  queen — thus  not  only 
violating  his  obligations  to  the  state,  but  like- 
wise inflicting  upon  his  wife  Calpurnia,  and  his 
family  at  Rome,  an  intolerable  wrong.  But 
Caesar  was  so  fascinated  by  Cleopatra's  charms, 
and  by  the  mysterious  and  unaccountable  in- 
fluence which  she  exercised  over  him,  that  he 
paid  no  heed  to  any  of  these  remonstrancea 
Even  after  the  war  was  ended  he  remained 
some  months  in  Egypt  to  enjoy  his  favorite's 
society.  He  would  spend  whole  nights  in  her 
company,  in  feasting  and  revelry.  He  made  a 
splendid  royal  progress  with  her  through  Egypt 
after  the  war  was  over,  attended  by  a  numer- 
ous train  of  Roman  guards.  He  formed  a  plan 
for  taking  her  to  Rome,  and  marrying  her  there; 
and  he  took  measures  for  having  the  laws  r  f  the 
oity  altered  so  as  to  enable  him  to  do  so,  thcngb 
he  was  already  married. 

All  these  things  produced  great  discontent 
and    disaffection    among  Csesa^'s    friend*    %«»d 


B.C.  4/.J  The   Alexandrine   Wak.     179 


Cteopatra'i  ion  Casarion.  Public  opinion  of  her  eoadnet 

throughout  the  Roman  army.  The  Egyptian* 
too,  strongly  censured  the  conduct  of  Cleopatra 
A  son  was  born  to  her  about  this  time,  whona 
tlie  Alexandrians  named,  from  his  father,  Csesa- 
rion.  Cleopatra  was  regarded  in  the  new  re- 
lation of  mother,  which  she  now  sustained,  not 
with  interest  and  sympathy,  but  with  feelings 
of  reproach  and  condemnation. 

Cleopatra  was  all  this  time  growing  more  and 
more  accomplished  and  more  and  more  beauti- 
ful ;  but  her  vivacity  and  spirit,  which  had  been 
so.  charming  while  it  was  simple  and  childlike, 
now  began  to  appear  more  forward  and  bold. 
It  is  the  characteristic  of  pure  and  lawful  love 
to  soften  and  subdue  the  heart,  and  infuse  a 
gentle  and  (luiet  spirit  into  all  its  action  ;  while 
that  which  breaks  over  the  barriers  that  God 
and  nature  have  marked  out  for  it,  tends  to 
make  woman  masculine  and  bold,  to  indurate 
all  her  sensibilities,  and  to  destroy  that  gentle- 
ness and  timidity  of  demeanor  which  have  so 
great  an  influence  in  heightening  her  charma 
Cleopatra  was  beginning  to  experience  these  ef- 
fects.  She  was  indifferent  to  the  opinions  of  hei 
•nbjects,  and  was  only  anxious  to  maintain  as 
long  as  possible  her  guilty  ascendency  over 
CsPHar 


180  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  47 

Cmur  departs  fbr  Eobm.  H«  Ukm  Antaol  wtik  Ui^ 

Osesar,  however,  finally  determined  to  set  out 
on  his  return  to  the  capital.  Leaving  Cleopa 
tra,  accordingly,  a  sufficient  force  to  secure  the 
continuance  of  her  power,  he  embarked  the  re- 
mainder of  his  forces  in  his  transports  and  gal- 
leys, and  sailed  away.  He  took  the  unhappy 
Axsinoe  with  him,  intending  to  exhibit  her  as  a 
trophy  of  his  Egyptian  victories  on  his  arrival 
at  Rome. 


B.C.  47.]    Cleopatra  a  (c^uesn.  181 

n»  AInxMidrlne  war  rery  ihort  Tti  •ztBBi 


Chapter   VIII. 

Cleopatra  a  Queen. 

f  llHE  war  by  which  CsBsar  reinstated  Cleo- 
-*-  patra  upon  the  throne  was  not  one  of  very 
long  duration.  CsBsar  arrived  in  Egypt  in  pur- 
suit of  Pompey  about  the  1st  of  August ;  the 
war  was  ended  and  Cleopatra  established  in  se- 
cure possession  by  the  end  of  January ;  so  that 
the  conflict,  violent  as  it  was  while  it  continued, 
was  very  brief,  the  peaceful  and  commercial 
pursuits  of  the  Alexandrians  having  been  inter- 
rupted by  it  only  for  a  few  months. 

Nor  did  either  the  war  itself,  or  the  derange- 
ments consequent  upon  it,  extend  very  far  into 
the  interior  of  the  country.  The  city  of  Alex- 
andria itself  and  the  neighboring  coasts  were 
the  chief  scenes  of  the  contest  until  Mithrada- 
tes  arrived  at  Pelusiura.  He,  it  is  true,  march- 
ed  across  the  Delta,  and  the  final  battle  wa« 
fought  in  the  interior  of  the  country.  It  was, 
however,  after  all,  but  a  very  small  portion  of 
the  Egyptian  territory  that  was  directly  affect- 
ed by  the  war.     The  great  mass  of  the  people. 


182  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  4? 

lUidiiui  of  Egypt.  The  dtf  repatrM) 

occupying  the  lich  and  fertile  tracts  which  bor- 
dered the  ^  arious  branches  of  the  Nile,  and  the 
long  and  verdant  valley  which  extended  so  far 
into  the  heart  of  the  continent,  knew  nothing 
©f  the  conflict  but  by  vague  and  distant  rumors. 
The  pursuits  of  the  agricultural  population 
went  on,  all  the  time,  as  steadily  and  prosper- 
ously as  ever ;  so  that  when  the  conflict  was 
ended,  and  Cleopatra  entered  upon  the  quiet 
and  peaceful  possession  of  her  power,  she  found 
that  the  resources  of  her  empire  were  very  little 
impaired. 

She  availed  herself,  accordingly,  of  the  reve- 
nues which  poured  in  very  abundantly  upon 
her,  to  enter  upon  a  career  of  the  greatest  lux- 
ury, magnificence,  and  splendor.  The  injuries 
which  had  been  done  to  the  palaces  and  other 
public  edifices  of  Alexandria  by  the  fire,  and  by 
the  military  operations  of  the  siege,  were  re- 
paired. The  bridges  which  had  been  broken 
down  were  rebuilt.  The  canals  which  had  been 
'jbstructed  were  opened  again.  The  sea- water 
was  shut  off  from  the  palace  cisterns ;  the  rub- 
bish of  demolished  houses  was  removed  ;  the 
barricades  were  cleared  from  the  streets;  and 
the  injuries  which  the  palaces  had  suffered,  ei- 
ther from  the  violence  of  military  engines  or  tht 


B.C. 47.]    Cleopatra  a  Queen.  183 


file  library  rebnflt  A  new  cc41ection  of  man\uerlptk 

rough  occupation  of  the  Roman  soldiery,  were 
repaired.  In  a  word,  the  city  was  speedily  re- 
stored once  more,  so  far  as  was  possible,  to  its 
former  order  and  beauty.  The  five  hundred 
thousand  manuscripts  of  the  Alexandrian  libra- 
ry, which  had  been  burned,  could  not,  indeed, 
be  restored  ;  but,  in  all  other  respects,  the  city 
soon  resumed  in  appearance  all  its  former  splen- 
dor. Even  in  respect  to  the  library,  Cleopatra 
made  an  effort  to  retrieve  the  loss.  She  repair- 
ed the  ruined  buildings,  and  afterward,  in  the 
course  of  her  life,  she  brought  together,  it  was 
said,  in  a  manner  hereafter  to  be  described,  one 
or  two  hundred  thousand  rolls  of  manuscripts, 
as  the  commencement  of  a  new  collection.  The 
new  library,  however,  never  acquired  the  fame 
and  distinction  that  had  pertained  to  the  old. 

The  former  sovereigns  of  Egypt,  Cleopatra's 
ancestors,  had  generally,  as  has  already  been 
shown,  devoted  the  immense  revenues  which 
they  extorted  from  the  agriculturalists  of  the 
valley  of  the  Nile  to  purposes  of  amb"tion. 
Cleopatra  seemed  now  disposed  to  expend  them 
in  luxury  and  pleasure.  They,  the  Ptolemies, 
had  employed  their  resources  in  erecting  vast 
structures,  or  founding  magnificent  institution* 
at  Alexandria,  to  add  to  the  glory  of  the  city, 


184  Cleopatra.  [B.C.45 

Lvnuy  knd  ipla&dor.  Deterioratlom  of  Claopatn'i  ohanetK 

and  to  widen  and  extend  their  own  fame.  Cle- 
opatra, on  the  other  hand,  as  was,  perhaps,  nat- 
urally to  be  expected  of  a  young,  beautiful,  and 
unpulsive  woman,  suddenly  raised  to  so  conspio- 
nous  a  position,  and  to  the  possession  of  such 
unbounded  wealth  aiid  power,  expended  her 
royal  revenues  in  plans  of  personal  display,  and 
in  scenes  of  festivity,  gayety,  and  enjoyment. 
She  adorned  her  palaces,  built  magnificent 
barges  for  pleasure  excursions  on  the  Nile,  and 
expended  enormous  sums  for  dress,  for  equipa- 
ges, and  for  sumptuous  entertainments.  In 
fact,  so  lavish  were  her  expenditures  for  these 
and  similar  purposes  during  the  early  years  of 
her  reign,  that  she  is  considered  as  having  car- 
ried the  extravagance  of  sensual  luxury  and 
personal  display  and  splendor  beyond  the  limits 
that  had  ever  before  or  have  ever  since  been 
attained 

Whatever  of  simplicity  of  character,  and  of 
gentleness  and  kindness  of  spirit  she  might 
have  possessed  in  her  earlier  years,  of  course 
gradually  disappeared  under  the  influences  of 
Buch  a  course  of  life  as  she  now  was  leading. 
She  was  beautiful  and  fascinating  still,  but  she 
began  to  grow  selfish,  heartless,  and  designing. 
Her  littla  brother — he  was  but  eleven  years  o/ 


8.C.45.]    Cleopatra   a  Queen.  185 

Rm  young  Ptolemy.  Cleopatra  assassinatei  him. 

age,  it  will  be  reoollected,  when  CaBsar  arranged 
the  marriage  between  them — was  an  object  of 
jea'ousy  to  her.  He  was  now,  of  course,  too 
young  to  take  any  actual  share  in  the  exercise 
of  the  royal  power,  or  to  interfere  at  all  in  his 
sister's  plans  or  pleasures.  But  then  he  was 
growing  older.  In  a  few  years  he  would  be 
fifteen — which  was  the  period  of  life  fixed  upon 
by  Caesar's  arrangements,  and,  in  fact,  by  the 
laws  and  usages  of  the  Egyptian  kingdom — 
when  he  was  to  come  into  possession  of  power 
as  king,  and  as  the  husband  of  Cleopatra.  Cle- 
opatra was  extremely  unwilling  that  the  change 
in  her  relations  to  him  and  to  the  government, 
which  this  period  was  to  bring,  should  take 
place.  Accordingly,  just  before  the  time  ar- 
rived, she  caused  him  to  be  poisoned.  His 
death  released  her,  as  she  had  intended,  from 
all  restraints,  and  thereafter  she  continued 
to  reign  alone.  During  the  remainder  of  her 
life,  so  far  as  the  enjoyment  of  wealth  and 
power,  and  of  all  other  elements  of  external 
prosperity  could  go,  Cleo})atra's  career  was  one 
»f  uninterrupted  success.  She  had  no  consci- 
entious scruples  to  interfere  with  the  most  full 
and  unrestrained  indulgence  of  every  propensity 
j(  her  heart,  and  the  means  of  indulgence  were 


LS6  Clbopatka.  [B.C.4& 

Oareer  at  Csaar.  EQa  rapid  ooorw  of  eoiH|«Ml 

before  her  in  the  most  unlimited  profusion.  The 
only  bar  to  her  happiness  was  the  impossibility 
of  satisfying  the  impulses  and  passions  of  thd 
human  soul,  when  they  once  break  over  the 
bounds  which  the  laws  both  of  God  and  of  na 
:nre  ordain  for  restraining  them. 

In  the  mean  time,  while  Cleopatra  was  spend 
ing  the  early  years  of  her  reign  in  all  this  lux- 
ury and  splendor,  Caesar  was  pursuing  his  ca- 
reer, as  the  conqueror  of  the  world,  in  the  most 
successful  manner.  On  the  death  of  Pompey, 
he  would  naturally  have  succeeded  at  once  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  supreme  power ;  but  hia 
delay  in  Egypt,  and  the  extent  to  which  it  was 
k^own  that  he  was  entangled  with  Cleopatra, 
encouraged  and  strengthened  his  enemies  in 
various  parts  of  the  world.  In  fact,  a  revolt 
which  broke  out  in  Asia  Minor,  and  which  it 
was  absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  proceed 
at  once  to  quell,  was  the  immediate  cause  of 
his  leaving  Egypt  at  last.  Other  plans  foi 
making  head  against  CeBsar's  power  wore  formed 
\n  Spain,  in  Africa,  and  in  Italy.  His  military 
«kill  and  energy,  however,  were  so  great,  and 
the  ascendency  which  he  exercised  over  the 
minds  of  men  by  his  personal  presence  was  so 
unbounded,  and  so  astonishing,  moreover,  whs 


BC.45.1   Clbopatra   a  Queen  187 


Cleopatra  doterBibiM  to  go  to  Ron*.  F«eUzgs  of  ttie  HomaiM 

the  celerity  with  which  he  moved  from  conti- 
nent to  continent,  and  from  kingdom  to  king- 
dom, tliat  in  a  very  short  period  from  the  time 
of  his  leaving  Egypt,  he  had  conducted  most 
brilliant  and  successful  campaigns  in  all  the 
three  quarters  of  the  world  then  known,  had  put 
down  effectually  all  opposition  to  his  power,  and 
then  had  returned  to  Rome  the  acknowledged 
master  of  the  world.  Cleopatra,  who  had,  of 
course,  watched  his  career  during  all  this  time 
with  great  pride  and  pleasure,  concluded,  at 
last,  to  go  to  Rome  and  make  a  visit  to  him 
there. 

The  people  of  Rome  were,  however,  not  pre- 
pared to  receive  her  very  cordially.  It  was  an 
age  in  which  vice  of  every  kind  was  regarded 
with  great  indulgence,  but  the  moral  instincts 
of  mankind  were  too  strong  to  be  wholly  blind- 
ed to  the  true  character  of  so  conspicuous  an 
example  of  w^ickedness  as  this.  Arsinoe  was 
at  Rome,  too,  during  this  period  of  Ceesar's  life. 
He  had  brought  her  there,  it  will  be  recollected, 
on  his  return  from  Egypt,  as  a  prisoner,  and  as 
a  trophy  of  his  victory.  His  design  was,  in  fact, 
to  reserve  her  as  a  captive  to  grace  his  tt  iumph. 

A  triumph,  according  to  the  usages  of  the  an- 
cient Romans,  wa»  a  grand  celebration  decreed 


188  Cleopatra.  [B.C.4^ 

OtoMi'i  fow  trinmpha.  Nature  of  triumphal  proceMlona 

by  the  senate  to  great  military  oomn:an(ier« 
of  the  highest  rank,  when  they  returned  from 
distant  campaigns  in  which  they  had  made 
great  conquests  or  gained  extraordinary  victo- 
ries.  Ceesar  concentrated  all  his  triumphs  into 
one.  They  were  celebrated  on  his  return  t-o 
Rome  for  the  last  time,  after  having  completed 
the  conquest  of  the  world.  The  processions  of 
this  triumph  occupied  four  days.  In  fact,  there 
were  four  triumphs,  one  on  each  day  for  the  four 
days.  The  wars  and  conquests  which  these 
ovations  were  intended  to  celebrate  were  those 
of  Gaul,  of  Egypt,  of  Asia,  and  of  Africa ;  and 
the  processions  on  the  several  days  consisted  of 
endless  trains  of  prisoners,  trophies,  arms,  ban- 
ners, pictures,  images,  convoys  of  wagons  load- 
ed  with  plunder,  captive  princes  and  princesses, 
animals,  wild  and  tame,  and  every  thing  else 
which  the  conqueror  had  been  able  to  bring 
home  with  him  from  his  campaigns,  to  excite 
the  curiosity  or  the  admiration  of  the  people  of 
the  city,  and  illustrate  the  magnitude  of  his  ex- 
ploits. Of  course,  the  Roman  generals,  when 
engaged  in  distant  foreign  wars,  were  ambitioiu 
of  bringing  back  as  many  distinguished  oaptivet 
and  as  much  public  plunder  as  they  were  able 
to  obtain,  in  order  to  add  to  the  variety  and 


B.C. 45.]   Cleopatra   a   (^ueen.  191 

ArslnoS.  Sympathy  of  the  ^oman  paopto 

iplendor  of  the  triumphal  procession  by  which 
their  victories  were  to  be  honored  on  their  re- 
turn. It  was  with  this  view  that  Ca3sar  brought 
Arsinoe  from  Egypt ;  and  he  had  retained  her 
as  his  captive  at  Rome  until  his  conquests  were 
completed  and  the  time  for  his  triumph  ar- 
rived. She,  of  course,  formed  a  part  of  the 
triumphal  train  on  the  Egyptian  day.  She 
walked  immediately  before  the  chariot  in  which 
Caesar  rode.  She  was  in  chains,  like  any  other 
captive,  though  her  chains,  in  honor  of  her  lofty 
rank,  were  made  of  gold. 

The  effect,  however,  upon  the  Roman  popu- 
lation of  seeing  the  unhappy  princess,  over- 
whelmed as  she  was  with  sorrow  and  chagrin, 
as  she  moved  slowly  along  in  the  train,  among 
the  other  emblems  and  trophies  of  violence  and 
plunder,  proved  to  be  by  no  means  favorable  tc 
Caesar.  The  populace  were  inclined  to  pity  her, 
and  to  sympathize  with  her  in  her  sufferings. 
Th :  sight  of  her  distress  recalled,  too,  to  theli 
minds  the  dereliction  from  duty  of  which  Csesar 
had  been  guilty  of  in  his  yielding  to  the  entice- 
ments of  Cleopatra,  and  remaining  so  long  in 
Egypt  to  cho  neglect  of  his  proper  duties  as  a 
Roman  minister  of  state.  In  a  word,  the  tide 
of  admiration  for  Caesar's  military  exploits  whiob 


192  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  45 

Cmtv  overaoti  hit  part  FeMti  and  foadval* 

aad  been  setting  so  strongly  in  his  favor,  seem 
ed  inclined  to  turn,  and  the  city  was  filled  with 
aiurmurs  against  him  even  in  the  midst  of  hif 
triumphs 

In  fact,  the  pride  and  vainglory  which  led 
>8Bsar  to  make  his  triumphs  more  splendid  and 
mposing  than  any  former  conqueror  had  evei 
/njoyed,  caused  him  to  overact  his  part  so  as  tc 
'^oduce  elfects  the  reverse  of  his  intentions 
The  case  of  Arsinoe  was  one  example  of  this 
Instead  of  impressing  the  people  with  a  sense  oi 
the  greatness  of  his  exploits  in  Egypt,  in  depo»- 
ing  one  queen  and  bringing  her  captive  to  Rome, 
in  order  that  he  might  place  another  upon  the 
throne  in  her  stead,  it  only  reproduced  anew  the 
censures  and  criminations  which  he  had  deserv- 
ed  by  his  actions  there,  but  which,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  pitiable  spectacle  of  Arsinoe  in  the 
train,  might  have  been  forgotten. 

There  were  other  examples  of  a  similar  char 
act^r.  There  were  the  feasts,  for  instance. 
From  the  plunder  which  Caesar  had  obtained 
in  his  various  campaigns,  he  expended  the  most 
enormous  sums  in  making  feasts  and  spectacles 
for  the  populace  at  the  time  of  his  triumph.  A 
large  portion  of  the  populace  was  pleased,  it  is 
true,  with  the  boundless  indolgenoes  thus  offer- 


B.C. 45.J    Cleopatra  a  C^ueen.  193 

Uot  aad  debauchery.  Pnbllc  •ombAti. 

5d  to  them ;  but  the  better  part  of  the  Roman 
people  were  indignant  at  the  waste  and  extrav- 
tgance  which  were  every  where  displayed.  For 
many  days  the  whole  city  of  Rome  presented  to 
the  view  nothing  but  one  wide-spread  scene  of 
riot  and  debauchery.  The  people,  instead  of 
being  pleased  with  this  abundance,  said  that 
CsBsar  must  have  practiced  the  most  extreme 
and  lawless  extortion  to  have  obtained  the  vast 
amount  of  money  necessary  to  enable  him  to 
supply  such  unbounded  and  reckless  waste. 

There  was  another  way,  too,  by  which  Caesar 
turned  public  opinion  strngly  against  himself, 
by  the  very  means  which  he  adopted  for  creat- 
ing a  sentiment  in  his  favor.  The  Romans, 
among  the  other  barbarous  amusements  which 
were  practiced  in  the  city,  were  specially  fond 
of  combats.  These  combats  were  of  various 
kinds.  They  were  fought  sometimes  between 
ferocious  beasts  of  the  same  or  of  different  spe- 
cies, as  dogs  against  each  other,  or  against  bulls, 
lions,  or  tigers.  Any  animals,  in  fact,  were  em 
ployed  for  this  purpose,  that  could  be  teased  or 
goaded  into  anger  and  ferocity  in  a  fight 
Sometimes  men  were  employed  in  these  com- 
bats—captive soldiers,  that  had  been  taken  in 
war,  and  brought  to  Rome  to  fight  in  the  an>- 
16—13 


194  Cleopatra.  [B.C.4A. 

The  wtlflclal  lake.  Cjinbat  spaa  H 

phitheaters  there  as  gladiators.  These  meD 
were  compelled  to  contend  sometimes  with  wild 
beasts,  and  sometimes  with  one  another.  Cap- 
ear;  knowing  how  highly  the  Roman  assemblies 
enjo  /ed  such  scenes,  determined  to  afford  them 
the  indulgence  on  a  most  magnificent  scale, 
supposing,  of  course,  that  the  greater  and  the 
more  dreadful  the  fight,  the  higher  would  be  the 
pleasure  which  the  spectators  would  enjoy  Id 
witnessing  it.  Accordingly,  in  making  prepa- 
rations for  the  festivities  attending  his  triumph, 
he  caused  a  large  artificial  lake  to  be  formed 
at  a  convenient  place  in  the  vicinity  of  Rome, 
where  it  could  be  surrounded  by  the  populace 
of  the  city,  and  there  he  made  arrangements 
for  a  naval  battle.  A  great  number  of  galleys 
were  introduced  into  the  lake.  They  were  of 
the  usual  size  employed  in  war.  These  galleys 
were  manned  with  numerous  soldiers.  Tyrian 
captives  were  put  upon  one  side,  and  Egyptian 
upon  the  other ;  and  when  all  was  ready,  the 
two  squadrons  were  ordered  to  approach  and 
fight  a  real  naval  battle  for  the  amusement  of 
the  enormous  throngs  of  spectators  that  were 
assembled  around.  As  the  nations  firom  which 
the  combatants  in  this  conflict  were  respective* 
ly  taken  were  hostile  to  each  other,  and  as  the 


B.C. 45.]    Cleopatra  a  Queen.  195 

Land  combaU.  Tha  paopla  tbocked 

men  fought,  of  course,  for  their  lives,  the  en- 
gagement was  attended  with  the  usual  horrors 
of  a  desperate  naval  encounter.  Hundreds  were 
slain.  The  dead  bodies  of  the  combatants  fell 
from  the  galleys  into  the  lake,  and  the  water* 
of  it  were  dyed  with  their  blood. 

There  were  land  combats,  too,  on  the  same 
grand  scale.  In  one  of  them  five  hundred  foot 
soldiers,  twenty  elephants,  and  a  troop  of  thirty 
horse  were  engaged  on  each  side.  This  com- 
bat, therefore,  was  an  action  greater,  in  respect 
to  the  number  of  the  combatants,  than  the  fa- 
mous battle  of  Lexington,  which  marked  the 
commencement  of  the  American  war ;  and  in 
respect  to  the  slaughter  which  took  place,  it  was 
very  probably  ten  times  greater.  The  horror 
")f  these  scenes  proved  to  be  too  much  even  for 
the  populace,  fierce  and  merciless  as  it  was, 
which  they  were  intended  to  amuse.  Csesar, 
in  his  eagerness  to  outdo  all  former  exhibitions 
and  shows,  went  beyond  the  limits  within  which 
the  seeing  of  men  butchered  in  bloody  combats 
and  dying  in  agony  and  despair  would  serve  for 
a  pleasure  and  a  pastime.  The  people  were 
shocked ;  and  condemnations  of  Caesar's  cruelty 
were  added  to  the  other  suppressed  reproaohet 
and  eriminationa  which  every  where  arose. 


196  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  45 

Cleopatra's  rlilt  Ceaai'*  plan*  for  makliig  himtelf  Uag 

Cleopatra,  during  her  visit  to  Rome,  lived 
openly  with  Caesar  at  his  residence,  and  this 
excited  very  general  displeasure.  In  fact,  while 
the  people  pitied  Arsinoe,  Cleopatra,  notwilh* 
standing  her  beauty  and  her  thousand  persona* 
accomplishments  and  charms,  was  an  object  of 
general  displeasure,  so  far  as  public  attention 
was  turned  toward  her  at  all.  The  public  mind 
was,  however,  much  engrossed  by  the  great  po- 
litical movements  made  by  Caesar  and  the  ends 
toward  which  he  seemed  to  be  aiming.  Men 
accused  him  of  designing  to  be  made  a  king 
Parties  were  formed  for  and  against  him ;  and 
though  men  did  not  dare  openly  to  utter  their 
sentiments,  their  passions  became  the  more  vio- 
lent in  proportion  to  the  external  force  by  which 
they  were  suppressed.  Mark  Antony  was  at 
Rome  at  this  time.  He  warmly  espoused  Cae- 
sar's cause,  and  encouraged  his  design  of  mak- 
ing himself  king.  He  once,  in  fact,  offered  to 
place  a  royal  diadem  upon  Caesar's  head  at 
•ome  public  celebration ;  but  the  marks  of  pub- 
lic disapprobation  which  the  act  elicited  caused 
him  to  desist. 
y^  At  length,  however,  the  time  arrived  when 
Ctesar  determined  to  cause  himself  to  be  pro- 
alaimed  king.    He  took  advantasre  of  a  certain 


B.C. 44.]    Cleopatra  a  Queen.  197 

Conspiracy  against  Cesar.  He  is  ascaasinated 

remarkable  conjuncture  of  public  affairs,  which 
can  not  here  be  particularly  described,  but  which 
seemed  to  him  specially  to  favor  his  designs, 
and  arrangements  were  made  for  having  him 
Invested  with  the  regal  power  by  the  senate. 
The  murmurs  and  the  discontent  of  the  people 
at  the  indications  that  the  time  for  the  realiza- 
tion of  their  fears  was  drawing  nigh,  became 
more  and  more  audible,  and  at  length  a  con- 
spiracy was  formed  to  put  an  end  to  the  danger 
by  destroying  the  ambitious  aspirant's  life. 
Two  stern  and  determined  men,  Brutus  and 
Cassius,  were  the  leaders  of  this  conspiracy. 
They  matured  their  plans,  organized  their  band 
of  associates,  provided  themselves  secretly  with 
arms,  and  when  the  senate  convened,  on  the 
day  in  which  the  decisive  vote  was  to  have  been 
passed,  Caesar  himself  proriding,  they  came  up 
boldly  around  him  in  his  presidential  chair,  and 
murdered  him  with  their  daggers. 
'  '^  Antony,  from  whom  the  plans  of  the  conspir- 
ators had  been  kept  profoundly  secret,  stood  by, 
kx>king  on  stupefied  and  confounded  while  the 
deed  w»s  done,  but  utterly  unable  to  render  his 
friend  any  protection. 

^    Cleopatra  immediately  fled  from  the  city  and 
returned  to  Egypt 


198  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  44 

Anlaot  raleaMd.  CalpomU  monnii  her  hubuKTi  dMdk 

Arsinoe  had  gone  away  before.  CaBsar,  ei- 
ther taking  pity  on  her  misfortunes,  or  impel- 
led, perhaps,  by  the  force  of  public  sentiment, 
which  seemed  inclined  to  take  part  with  hei 
against  him,  set  her  at  liberty  immediately  aftei 
the  ceremonies  of  his  triumph  were  over.  He 
would  not,  however,  allow  her  to  return  into 
Egypt,  for  fear,  probably,  that  she  might  in 
some  way  or  other  be  the  means  of  disturbing 
the  government  of  Cleopatra.  She  proceeded, 
acoordingly,  into  Syria,  no  longer  as  a  captive, 
but  still  as  an  exile  from  her  native  land.  We 
shall  hereafter  learn  what  became  of  her  there. 

Calpurnia  mourned  the  death  of  her  husband 
with  sincere  and  unaffected  grief.  She  bore  the 
wrongs  which  she  suffered  as  a  wife  with  a  very 
patient  and  unrepining  spirit,  and  loved  her  hus- 
band with  the  most  devoted  attachment  to  the 
end.  Nothing  can  be  more  affecting  than  the 
proofs  of  her  tender  and  anxious  regard  on  the 
night  immediately  preceding  the  assassination 
There  were  certain  slight  and  obscure  indioa^ 
tions  of  danger  which  her  watchful  devotion  tc 
her  husband  led  her  to  observe,  though  they 
eluded  the  notice  of  all  Caesar's  other/riends, 
and  they  filled  her  with  apprehension  and  anx« 
'«ty  ;  and  when  at  length  the  bloody  body  wm 


U.C.44.]    Cleopatra  x  Queen.  199 

Calpumia  looks  to  Mark  Antony  as  her  protector. 

brought  home  to  her  from  the  senate-house,  she 
was  overwhelmed  with  grief  and  despair. 

She  had  no  children.  She  accordingly  look» 
ed  upon  Mark  Antony  as  her  nearest  friend  and 
protector,  and  in  the  confusion  and  terror  which 
prevailed  the  next  day  in  the  city,  she  hastily 
packed  together  the  money  and  other  valuables 
contained  in  the  house,  and  all  her  husband's 
books  and  papers,  and  sent  them  to  Antony  foi 
safe  keeping. 


200  Cleopatra.  [B.C.44 

Gontteinadoii  at  Rome  CeMi'i  wU 


Chapter    IX. 
The   Battle   of   Philippl 

WHEN  the  tidings  of  the  assassination  of 
Caesar  were  first  announced  to  the  peopU 
of  Rome,  all  ranks  and  classes  of  men  wer« 
struck  with  amazement  and  consternation.  No 
one  knew  what  to  say  or  do.  A  very  large  and 
influential  portion  of  the  community  had  been 
CsBsar's  friends.  It  was  equally  certain  that 
there  was  a  very  powerful  interest  opposed  to 
hitn.  No  one  could  foresee  which  of  these  two 
parties  would  now  carry  the  day,  and,  of  course, 
for  a  time,  all  was  uncertainty  and  indecision. 
Mark  Antony  came  forward  at  once,  and  as- 
sumed the  position  of  Caesar's  representative 
and  the  leader  of  the  party  on  that  side.  A 
will  was  found  among  Caesar's  effects,  and  when 
the  will  was  opened  it  appeared  that  large  sums 
of  money  were  left  to  the  Roman  people,  and 
other  large  amounts  to  a  nephew  of  the  deceased, 
named  Octavius,  who  will  be  more  particularly 
gpoken  of  hereafter.  Antony  was  named  in  the 
will  as  the  executor  of  it.     This  and  other  oir- 


B.C. 44]  The   Battle   of    I^hilippi.  201 

Brutua  aud  Cassiua.  Partlea  formeA 

cumstances  seemed  to  authorize  him  to  oome 
forward  as  the  head  and  the  leader  of  the  Cae- 
sar party.  Brutus  and  Cassius,  who  remained 
openly  in  the  city  after  their  desperate  deed  had 
been  performed,  were  the  acknowledged  leaders 
of  the  other  party  ;  while  the  mass  of  the  people 
were  at  first  so  astounded  at  the  magnitude 
and  suddenness  of  the  revolution  which  the  open 
and  public  assassination  of  a  Roman  emperor 
by  a  RomEin  senate  denoted,  that  they  knew  not 
what  to  say  or  do.  In  fact,  the  killing  of  Juliui* 
Caesar,  considering  the  exalted  position  which 
he  occupied,  the  rank  and  station  of  the  men 
who  perpetrated  the  deed,  and  the  very  extra- 
ordinary publicity  of  the  scene  in  which  the  act 
was  performed,  was,  doubtless,  the  most  con- 
spicuous and  most  appalling  case  of  assassina- 
tion that  has  ever  occurred.  The  whole  popu- 
lation of  Rome  seemed  for  some  days  to  be 
amazed  and  stupefied  by  the  tidings.  At  length, 
however,  parties  began  to  be  more  distinctly 
formed.  The  lines  of  demarkation  between 
^hem  were  gradually  drawn,  and  men  began  to 
arrange  themselves  more  and  more  unequivo- 
cally on  the  opposite  sides. 

For  a  short  time  the  supremacy  of  Antony 
•ver  the  Caesar  party  was  readily  acquiesced  Ui 


202  Cleopatra.  [B.C.44 

OeUrtiu  uid  Lepldna.  Character  of  Octerlna 

and  allowed.  At  length,  however,  and  before 
hia  arraHgements  were  finally  matured,  he  found 
that  he  had  two  formidable  competitors  upon  his 
•wn  side.  These  were  Octavius  and  Lepidus. 
Ootavius,  who  was  the  nephew  of  Caesar,  al- 
ready alluded  to,  was  a  very  accomplished  and 
slegant  young  man,  now  about  nineteen  years 
of  ago.  He  was  the  son  of  Julius  Caesar's  niece.* 
He  had  always  been  a  great  favorite  with  his 
nnole.  Every  possible  attention  had  been  paid 
to  his  education,  and  he  had  been  advanced  by 
Caesar,  already,  to  positions  of  high  importance 
in  public  life.  Caesar,  in  fact,  adopted  him  as 
his  son,  and  made  him  his  heir.  At  the  time 
of  Caesar's  death  he  was  at  Apollonia,  a  city  of 
Qlyricum,  north  of  Greece.  The  troops  under 
his  command  there  offered  to  march  at  once 
with  him,  if  he  wished  it,  to  Rome,  and  avenge 
his  uncle's  death.  Octavius,  after  some  hesita- 
tion, concluded  that  it  would  be  most  prudent 
for  him  to  proceed  thither  first  himself,  alone, 
as  a  private  person,  and  demand  his  rights  as 

*  Thu  Octavius  od  hia  sahseqaent  elevation  to  imperia 
power,  received  the  name  of  Aagustiu  Ccesar,  and  it  is  by 
thia  name  that  he  is  generally  known  in  history.  He  was, 
however,  called  Octavius  at  the  commencement  of  his  career, 
and,  to  avoid  confusion,  we  shall  continue  to  designate  him  by 
this  name  to  the  end  of  our  narrativa. 


B.C.44.J  The   Battlb   of   Philippl  203 

OcUrlut  proceed*  to  Konw.  H«  elainu  hl«  rl|hU  m  htlr. 

his  uncle's  heir,  according  to  the  provisions  of 
the  will.  He  accordingly  did  so.  He  found, 
on  his  arrival,  that  the  will,  the  property,  the 
books  and  parchments,  and  the  substantial 
power  of  the  government,  were  ail  in  Antony's 
hands.  Antony,  instead  of  putting  Octavius 
into  possession  of  his  property  and  rights,  found 
various  pretexts  for  evasion  and  delay.  Octa- 
vius was  too  young  yet,  he  said,  to  assume  such 
weighty  responsibilities.  He  was  himself  also 
too  much  pressed  with  the  urgency  of  public  af- 
fairs to  attend  to  the  business  of  the  will.  With 
these  and  similar  excuses  as  his  justification, 
Antony  seemed  inclined  to  pay  no  regard  what- 
ever to  Octavius's  claims. 

Octavius,  young  as  he  was,  possessed  a  char- 
acter that  was  marked  with  great  intelligence, 
spirit,  and  resolution.  He  soon  made  many 
powerful  friends  in  the  city  of  Rome  and  among 
the  Roman  senate.  It  became  a  serious  ques- 
tion whether  he  or  Antony  would  gain  the  great- 
est ascendency  in  the  party  of  Caesar's  friends. 
The  contest  for  this  ascendency  was,  in  fact, 
protracted  for  two  or  three  years,  and  led  to  a 
vast  complication  of  intrigues,  and  maneuvers, 
and  civil  wars,  which  can  not,  however,  be  here 
particularly  detailed. 


f04  Cleopatra-  (B.C.  44 

t^fUmn  Ukm  eommand  of  tbe  *rmy.  Tbs  triuravirat* 

The  other  competitor  which  Antony  had  to 
•ontend  with  was  a  distinguished  Roman  gen- 
eral named  I^epidus.  Lepidus  was  an  officer 
of  the  army,  in  very  high  command  at  the  timo 
of  Csesar's  death.  He  was  present  in  the  senate 
chamber  on  the  day  of  the  assassination.  He 
stole  secretly  away  when  he  saw  that  the  deed 
was  done,  and  repaired  to  the  camp  of  the  army 
without  the  city  and  immediately  assumed  the 
command  of  the  forces.  This  gave  him  great 
power,  n^d  in  the  course  of  the  contests  which 
subsequently  ensued  between  Antony  and  Oo- 
tavius,  he  took  an  active  part,  and  held  in  some 
measure  the  balance  between  them.  At  length 
the  contest  was  finally  closed  by  a  coalition  of 
the  three  rivals.  Finding  that  they  could  not 
either  of  them  gain  a  decided  victory  over  the 
others,  they  combined  together,  and  formed  the 
celebrated  triumvirate,  which  continued  after 
ward  for  some  time  to  wield  the  supreme  com- 
mand in  the  Roman  world.  In  forming  this 
league  of  reconciliation,  the  three  rivals  held 
their  conference  on  an  island  situated  in  one  of 
the  branches  of  the  Po,  in  the  north  of  Italy. 
They  manifested  extreme  jealousy  and  suspicion 
of  each  other  'n  coming  to  this  interview.  Two 
bridges  ware  built  leading  to  the  island,  on« 


B.C. 43  I  The    Battle   of   Philippi.  20S 


Conference  between  Octarlua,  Lepidoa,  and  Antony. 

from  each  bank  of  the  stream.  The  army  of 
Antony  was  drawn  up  upon  one  side  of  the  river, 
and  that  of  Octavius  upon  the  other.  Lepiduf 
went  first  to  the  island  by  one  of  the  bridges. 
A-fter  examining  the  ground  carefully,  to  make 
himself  sure  that  it  contained  no  ambuscade, 
he  made  a  signal  to  the  other  generals,  who  then 
came  over,  each  advancing  by  his  own  bridge, 
and  accompanied  by  three  hundred  guards,  who 
remained  upon  the  bridge  to  secure  a  retreat 
for  their  master  in  case  of  treachery.  The  con- 
ference lasted  three  days,  at  the  expiration  of 
which  time  the  articles  were  all  agreed  upon 
and  signed. 

This  league  being  formed,  the  three  confed- 
erates turned  their  united  force  against  the  par- 
ty of  the  conspirators.  Of  this  party  Brutofl 
and  CassJus  were  still  at  the  head. 

The  scene  of  the  contests  between  Octavius, 
Antony,  and  Lepidus  had  been  chiefly  Italy  and 
the  other  central  countries  of  Europe.  Brutus 
and  Cassius,  on  the  other  hand,  had  gone  across 
the  Adriatic  Sea  into  the  East  immediately 
after  Cfcsar's  assassination.  They  were  now  in 
Asia  Minor,  and  were  employed  in  concentrat- 
ing their  forces,  forming  alliances  with  the  vs 
rious  Eastern  powers,  raising  troops,  briusing 


206  Cleopatha  [B.C.  41. 

BmbsMage  to  Cleopatrs.  Her  imet^cm 

over  to  their  side  the  Roman  legions  which  were 
stationed  in  that  quarter  of  the  world,  seizing 
magazines,  and  exacting  contributions  from  all 
who  could  b*)  induced  to  favor  their  cause. 
\.mong  other  embassages  which  they  sent,  one 
went  to  Egypt  to  demand  aid  from  Cleopatra. 
Cleopatra,  however, -was  resolved  to  join  the 
other  side  in  the  contest.  It  was  natural  that 
•he  should  feel  grateful  to  Caesar  for  his  efforts 
and  sacrifices  in  her  behalf,  and  that  she  should 
be  inclined  to  favor  the  cause  of  his  friends. 
Accordingly,  instead  of  sending  troops  to  aid 
Brutus  and  Cassius,  as  they  had  desired  her  to 
do,  she  immediately  fitted  out  an  expedition  to 
proceed  to  the  coast  of  Asia,  with  a  view  of  ren- 
dering all  the  aid  in  her  power  to  Antony's 
cause. 

Cassius,  on  his  part,  finding  that  Cleopatra 
was  determined  on  joining  his  enemies,  imme- 
diately resolved  on  proceeding  at  once  to  Egypt 
and  taking  possession  of  the  country.  He  also 
stationed  a  military  force  atTaenarus,  the  south- 
am  promontory  of  Greece,  to  watch  for  and  in- 
tercept the  fleet  of  Cleopatra  as  soon  as  it  should 
appear  on  the  European  shores.  All  these 
plans,  however  —  both  those  which  Cleopatra 
formerl  against  Cassius,  and  those  which  Ca» 


B.C.  41.]  The  Battlb  of  Philippi.     207 


CmsIiu  abandoDB  hit  design*.  Approach  of  the  triamrln 

sins  formed  against  her — failed  of  accomplish- 
ment. Cleopatra's  fleet  encountered  a  terrible 
Btorm,  which  dispersed  and  destroyed  it.  A 
small  remnant  was  driven  upon  the  coast  of 
Africa,  but  nothing  could  be  saved  which  could 
be  made  available  for  the  purpose  intended  As 
for  Cassius's  intended  expedition  to  Egypv,  it 
was  not  carried  into  effect.  The  dangers  which 
began  now  to  threaten  him  from  the  direction 
of  Italy  and  Rome  were  so  imminent,  that,  at 
Brutus's  urgent  request,  he  gave  up  the  Egyp- 
tian plan,  and  the  two  generals  concentrated 
their  forces  to  meet  the  armies  of  the  triumvi- 
rate which  were  now  rapidly  advancing  to  at- 
tack them.  They  passed  for  this  purpose  across 
the  Hellespont  from  Sestos  to  Abydos,  and  en- 
tered Thrace.* 

After  various  marches  and  countermarches, 
and  a  long  succession  of  those  maneuvers  by 
which  two  powerful  armies,  approaching  a  con- 
test, endeavor  each  to  gain  some  position  of  ad- 
vantage against  the  other,  the  various  bodies  of 
troops  belonging,  respectively,  to  the  two  pow- 
ers, came  into  the  vicinity  of  each  other  near 
Philippi.  Brutus  and  Cassius  arrived  here  first. 
There  was  a  plain  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 

*  Se«  map,  at  the  fruntispiece. 


«08  Cleopatra.  [B.C.4L 

Hw  •rmtM  meet  at  PbtllppL  flkkiMiM  of  OetaT^M 

city,  with  a  rising  ground  in  a  certain  portion 
of  it.  Brutti  took  possession  of  this  elevation, 
and  intrenched  himself  there.  Cassius  posted 
his  forces  about  three  miles  distant,  near  the 
sea.  There  was  a  line  of  intrench  men  ts  be- 
tween the  two  camps,  which  formed  a  chain  of 
communication  by  .which  the  positions  of  the 
two  commanders  were  connected.  The  armies 
were  thus  very  advantageously  posted.  They 
had  the  River  Strymon  and  a  marsh  on  the  left 
of  the  ground  that  they  occupied,  while  the 
plain  was  before  them,  and  the  sea  behind. 
Here  they  awaited  the  arrival  of  their  foes. 

Antony,  who  was  at  this  time  at  Amphipolis, 
a  city  not  far  distant  from  Philippi,  learning 
that  Brutus  and  Cassius  had  taken  their  posi- 
tions in  anticipation  of  an  attack,  advsnced  im- 
mediately and  encamped  upon  the  plain.  Oc- 
tavins  was  detained  by  sickness  at  the  city  of 
Dyrrachium,  not  very  far  distant.  Antony 
waited  for  him.  It  was  ten  days  before  he 
came.  At  length  he  arrived,  though  in  coming 
be  had  to  be  borne  upon  a  litter,  being  still  too 
eiok  to  travel  in  any  other  way.  Antony  ap- 
proached, and  established  his  camp  opposite  to 
that  of  Cassius,  near  the  sea,  while  Ootaviut 
took  post  opposite  to  Brutus.    The  four  armies 


B.C. 41.]  Thl  Battle  of  Philippi.     209 

Differ«nce  of  opinion  between  Brutus  and  CaMiuB.  Council  of  war. 

then  pansed,  contemplating  the  probable  result* 
of  the  engagement  that  was  about  to  ensue 

The  forces  on  the  two  sides  were  nearly 
equal ;  but  on  the  Republican  side,  that  is,  on 
the  part  of  Brutus  and  Cassius,  there  was  great 
inconvenience  and  suffering  for  want  of  a  suffi- 
cient supply  of  provisions  and  stores.  There 
was  some  difference  of  opinion  between  Brutus 
and  Cassius  in  respect  to  what  it  was  best  for 
them  to  do.  Brutus  was  inclined  to  give  the 
enemy  battle.  Cassius  was  reluctant  to  do  so, 
since,  under  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
were  placed,  he  considered  it  unwise  to  hazard, 
as  they  necessarily  must  do,  the  whole  success 
of  their  cause  to  the  chances  of  a  single  battle 
A.  council  of  war  was  convened,  and  the  various 
officers  were  asked  to  give  their  opinions.  In 
this  conference,  one  of  the  officers  having  rec- 
ommended to  postpone  the  conflict  to  the  next 
winter,  Brutus  asked  him  what  advantage  he 
hoped  to  attain  by  such  delay  "  If  I  gain  noth> 
ing  else,**  replied  the  officer,  "  I  shall  live  so 
much  the  longer."  This  answer  touched  Cas- 
•ius's  pride  and  military  sense  of  honor.  Rath- 
er than  concur  in  a  counsel  which  was  thus,  on 
the  part  of  one  of  its  ad\rocat«s  at  least,  dictated 

by  what  he  considered  an  inglorious  love  of  life, 
16—14 


210  Cleopatra,  [B.C.41 

ftacision  of  the  connclL.  Bmtoa  greatiy  elated 

he  preferred  to  retract  his  opinion.  It  was 
agreed  by  the  council  that  the  army  shonid 
maintain  its  ground  and  give  the  enemy  battle. 
The  officers  then  repaired  to  their  respectiTe 
camps. 

Brutus  was  greatly  pleased  at  this  decision. 
To  fight  the  battle  had  been  his  original  desire, 
and  as  his  counsels  had  prevailed,  he  was,  of 
course,  gratified  with  the  prospect  for  the  mor- 
row. He  arranged  a  sumptuous  entertainment 
in  his  tent,  and  invited  all  the  officers  of  his  di- 
vision of  the  army  to  sup  with  him.  The  party 
spent  the  night  in  convivial  pleasures,  and  in 
mutual  congratulations  at  the  prospect  of  the 
victory  which,  as  they  believed,  awaited  them 
on  the  morrow.  Brutus  entertained  his  guests 
with  brilliant  conversation  all  the  evening,  and 
io^ired  them  with  his  own  confident  anticij:«- 
tions  of  success  in  the  coniiict  which  was  to 
ensue. 

Cassias,  on  the  other  hand,  in  bis  camp  o^ 
the  sea,  was  silent  and  desponding.  He  sapped 
privately  with  a  few  intimate  friends.  On  ris- 
ing from  the  table,  he  took  one  of  his  officer* 
aside,  and,  pressing  his  hand,  said  to  him  that 
he  felt  great  misgivings  in  respect  to  the  resalt 
•f  the  contest.     "  It  is  against  my  judgment.' 


B.C.41.]  The  Bittle  of  Philippi.     2U 

Deapoodeocy  of  CawliM.  FreparaUons  for  battU 

said  he,  "  that  we  thus  hazard  the  liberty  of 
Rome  on  the  event  of  one  battle,  fought  under 
such  circumstances  as  these.  Whatever  is  th« 
result,  I  wish  you  to  bear  me  witness  hereafter 
that  I  was  forced  into  this  measure  by  circum 
stances  that  I  could  not  control.  I  suppose, 
however,  that  I  ought  to  take  courage,  notwith- 
standing the  reasons  that  I  have  for  these 
gloomy  forebodings.  Let  us,  therefore,  hope  for 
the  best ;  and  come  and  sup  with  me  again  to- 
morrow night.     To-morrow  is  my  birth-day." 

The  next  morning,  the  scarlet  mantle — the 
customary  signal  displayed  in  Roman  camps  on 
the  morning  of  a  day  of  battle — was  seen  at  the 
tops  of  the  tents  of  the  two  commanding  gen- 
erals, waving  there  in  the  air  like  a  banner. 
While  the  troops,  in  obedience  to  this  signal, 
were  preparing  themselves  for  the  conflict,  the 
two  generals  went  to  meet  each  other  at  a  point 
midway  between  their  two  encampments,  for  a 
final  consultation  and  agreement  in  respect  to 
the  Eurrangements  of  the  day.  When  this  busi- 
ness was  concluded,  and  they  were  about  to 
separate,  in  order  to  proceed  each  to  his  own 
sphere  of  duty,  Cassius  asked  Brutus  what  he 
intended  to  do  in  case  the  day  should  go  against 
them.    "  We  hope  for  the  best,"  said  he,  "  Bad 


2V^  Cleopatra.  IB.C.41 

KeMlntioa  of  Bmtu*  to  die.  Similar  retolTe  of  CaMlnj 

pray  that  the  gods  may  grant  us  the  victory  in 
this  most  momentous  crisis.  But  we  must  re- 
member that  it  is  the  greatest  and  the  most 
momentous  of  human  affairs  that  are  always 
the  most  uncertain,  and  we  can  not  foresee  what 
is  to-day  to  be  the  result  of  the  battle.  If  it 
goes  against  us,  what  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  Do 
you  intend  to  escape,  or  to  die  ?" 

"  When  I  was  a  young  man,"  said  Brutus, 
in  reply,  "  and  looked  at  this  subject  only  as  a 
question  of  theory,  I  thought  it  wrong  for  a  man 
ever  to  take  his  own  life.  However  great  the 
evils  that  threatened  him,  and  however  despe- 
rate his  condition,  I  considered  it  his  duty  to 
live,  and  to  wait  ))atiently  for  better  times.  But 
now,  placed  in  the  position  in  which  I  am,  I  see 
the  subject  in  a  different  light.  If  we  do  not 
gain  the  battle  this  day,  I  shall  consider  all  hope 
and  possibility  of  saving  our  country  forever 
gone,  and  I  shall  not  leave  the  field  of  battle 
alive." 

Cassius,  in  his  despondency,  had  made  the 
tame  resolution  for  himself  before,  and  he  wsls 
rejoiced  to  hear  Brutus  utter  these  sentiments. 
He  grasped  his  colleague's  hand  with  a  ooun- 
tenanoe  expressive  of  the  greatest  animation 
and  pleasure,  and  bade  iiim  farewell,  Ba3nrg 


B.C. 41.]  The   Battle   of   Philippl   213 

Omen*.  Their  Influence  npon  CaMitMb 

"  We  will  go  out  boldly  to  face  the  enemy.  For 
we  are  certain  either  that  we  shall  conquer  thenij 
»r  that  we  shall  have  nothing  to  fear  from  their 
Yictory  over  us." 

Cassius's  dejection,  and  the  tendency  of  his 
mind  to  take  a  despairing  view  of  the  prospects 
of  the  cause  in  which  he  was  engaged,  were 
owing,  in  some  measure,  to  certain  unfavorable 
omens  which  he  had  observed.  These  omens, 
though  really  frivolous  and  wholly  unworthy  of 
attention,  seem  to  have  had  great  influence  upon 
him,  notwithstanding  his  general  intelligence, 
and  the  remarkable  strength  and  energy  of  hia 
character.     They  were  as  follows  : 

In  offering  certain  sacrifices,  he  was  to  wear, 
according  to  the  usage  prescribed  on  such  oc- 
casions, a  garland  of  flowers,  and  it  happened 
that  the  officer  who  brought  the  garland,  by 
mistake  or  accident,  presented  it  wrong  side 
before.  Again,  in  some  procession  which  was 
formed,  and  in  which  a  certain  image  of  gold, 
made  in  honor  of  him,  was  borne,  the  bearer  of 
it  stumbled  and  fell,  and  the  image  was  thrown 
upon  the  ground.  This  was  a  very  dark  pre- 
sage of  impending  calamity.  Then  a  great 
number  of  vultures  and  other  birds  of  prey  wer« 
•eeuj  fi>r  a  number  of  days  before  the  battle, 


2M  Cleopatra.  [RC.41 

n0  awBiuu  of  b«M.  V^aratiifi  raeetred  by  Brnta* 

hovering  over  the  Roman  army;  and  several 
ewarms  of  bees  were  found  within  the  precincta 
of  the  camp.  So  alarming  was  this  last  indi- 
cation, that  the  officers  altered  the  line  of  the 
intrenchments  so  as  to  shut  out  the  ill-omened 
spot  from  the  camp.  These  and  other  such 
things  had  great  influence  upon  the  mind  of 
Cassius,  in  convincing  him  that  some  great  dis- 
aster was  impending  over  him.   . 

Nor  was  Brutus  himself  without  warnings  of 
this  character,  though  they  seem  to  have  had 
leae  power  to  produce  any  serious  impression 
upon  his  mind  than  in  the  case  of  Cassius.  The 
most  extraordinary  warning  which  Brutus  re- 
ceived, according  to  the  story  of  his  ancient  his- 
torians, was  by  a  supernatural  apparition  which 
he  saw,  some  time  before,  while  he  was  in  Asia 
Minor.  He  was  encamped  near  th^  city  of  Sar- 
dis  at  that  time.  He  was  always  accustomed 
to  sleep  very  little,  and  would  often,  it  was  said 
when  all  his  officers  had  retired,  and  the  camp 
was  still,  sit  alone  in  his  tent,  sometimes  read« 
ing,  and  sometimes  revolving  the  anxious  cares 
which  were  always  pressing  upon  his  mind 
One  night  he  was  thus  alone  in  his  tent,  with 
m  small  lamp  burning  before  him,  sitting  lost 
fad  thought,  when  he  suddenly  heard  a  n>-* 


B.C. 41.]  The    Battle   op   Philippi.  215 

Tbe  apirit  Men  by  Brutua  HI*  conTerMdon  with  It 

ment  as  of  some  one  entering  the  tent.  He 
looked  up,  and  saw  a  strange,  unearthly,  and 
monstrous  shape,  which  appeared  to  have  just 
entered  the  door  and  was  coming  toward  him. 
The  spirit  gazed  upon  him  as  it  advanced,  but 
it  did  not  speak. 

Brutus,  who  was  not  much  accustomed  to 
fear,  boldly  demanded  of  the  apparition  who  and 
what  it  was,  and  what  had  brought  it  there. 
*'  I  am  your  evil  spirit,"  said  the  apparition. 
"  I  shall  meet  you  at  Philippi."  "  Then,  it 
seems,"  said  Brutus,  "  that,  at  any  rate,  I  shall 
•ee  you  again."  The  spirit  made  no  reply  to 
this,  but  immediately  vanished. 

Brutus  arose,  went  to  the  door  of  his  tent, 
summoned  the  sentinels,  and  awakened  the  sol- 
diers that  were  sleeping  near.  The  sentinels 
Had  seen  nothing ;  and,  after  the  most  diligent 
search,  no  trace  of  the  mysterious  visitor  could 
be  found. 

The  next  morning  Brutus  related  to  Cassioa 
the  occurrence  which  he  had  witnessed.  Cas- 
sias, though  very  sensitive,  it  seems,  to  the  in- 
fluence of  omens  affecting  himself,  was  quite 
philosophical  in  his  views  in  respect  to  those  of 
other  men.  He  argued  very  rationally  with 
Brutos  to  convince  him  that  the  vision  whiob 


216  Cleopatra.  [B.C.4i 

IUttl«  of  PhillppL  DefcM  of  OeteTtu 

he  had  seen  was  only  a  phantom  of  sleep,  tak 
ing  its  form  and  character  from  the  ideas  and 
images  which  the  situation  in  which  Brutus 
was  then  placed,  and  the  fatigue  and  anxiety 
which  he  had  endured,  would  naturally  impress 
upon  his  mind. 

But  to  return  to  the  battle.  Brutus  fought 
•gainst  Octavius ;  while  Cassius,  two  or  three 
miles  distant,  encountered  Antony,  that  hav- 
ing been,  as  will  be  recollected,  the  disposition 
of  the  respective  armies  and  their  encampments 
upon  the  plain.  Brutus  was  triumphantly  suc- 
cessful in  his  part  of  the  field.  His  troops  de- 
feated the  army  of  Octavius,  and  got  possession 
of  his  camp.  The  men  forced  their  way  into 
Ootavius's  tent,  and  pierced  the  litter  in  which 
they  supposed  that  the  sick  general  was  lying 
through  and  through  with  their  spears.  But 
the  object  of  their  desperate  hostility  was  not 
there.  He  had  been  borne  away  by  his  guards 
a  few  minutes  before,  and  no  one  knew  what 
bad  become  of  him. 

The  result  of  the  battle  was,  however,  unfoi 
tnnately  for  those  whose  adventures  we  are  now 
more  particularly  following,  very  different  in 
Cassius's  part  of  the  field.    When  Brutus,  after 
oompleting  the  conquest  of  his  own  immediat« 


B.C. 41.]  The  Battle  of  Philippi.     217 

Defeat  of  CbmIqji.  Brntu*  goei  to  hU  aid 

foes,  returned  to  his  elevated  camp,  he  looked 
toward  the  camp  of  Cassius,  and  was  surprised 
to  find  that  the  tents  had  disappeared.  Soma 
of  the  officers  around  perceived  weapons  glan* 
oing  and  glittering  in  the  sun  in  the  place  where 
Cassius's  tents  ought  to  appear.  Brutus  now 
suspected  the  truth,  which  was,  that  Cassius 
had  been  defeated,  and  his  camp  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy.  He  immediately  col- 
lected together  as  large  a  force  as  he  could  com- 
mand, and  marched  to  the  relief  of  his  col- 
league. He  found  him,  at  last,  posted  with  a 
small  body  of  guards  and  attendants  upon  the 
top  of  a  small  elevation  to  which  he  had  fled 
for  safety.  Cassius  saw  the  troop  of  horsemen 
which  Brutus  sent  forward  coming  toward  him, 
and  supposed  that  it  was  a  detachment  from 
Antony's  army  advancing  to  capture  him.  He, 
however,  sent  a  messenger  forward  to  meet 
them,  and  ascertain  whether  they  were  friends 
or  foes.  The  messenger,  whose  name  was  Ti- 
tinius,  rode  dovra.  The  horsemen  recognized 
Titinius,  and,  riding  up  eagerly  around  iiim, 
they  dismounted  from  their  horses  to  congrat- 
ulate him  on  his  safety,  and  to  press  him  with 
inquiries  in  respect  to  the  result  of  the  battl* 
And  the  fate  of  his  master. 


218  Cleopatra-  [B.C.41 

Death  of  Caaalwa.  Orief  of  BrvtoA 

Cassius,  seeing  all  this,  but  not  seeing  it  very 
distinctly,  supposed  that  the  troop  of  horsemen 
were  enemies,  and  that  they  had  surrounded 
Titinius,  and  had  cut  him  down  or  made  him 
prisoner.  He  considered  it  certain,  therefore, 
that  all  was  now  finally  lost.  Accordingly,  in 
execution  of  a  plan  which  he  had  previously 
formed,  he  called  a  servant,  named  Pindarus, 
whom  he  directed  to  follow  him,  and  went  into 
a  tent  which  was  near.  When  Brutus  and 
his  horsemen  came  up,  they  entered  the  tent. 
They  found  no  living  person  within ;  but  the 
dead  body  of  Cassius  was  there,  the  head  being 
totally  dissevered  from  it,  Pindarus  was  never 
afterward  to  be  found. 

Brutus  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  at  th© 
death  of  his  colleague ;  he  was  also  oppressed 
by  it  with  a  double  burden  of  responsibility  and 
care,  since  now  the  whole  conduct  of  affairs  de- 
volved upon  him  alone.  He  found  himself  sur- 
rounded with  difficulties  which  became  more 
and  more  embarrassing  every  day.  At  length 
he  was  compelled  to  fight  a  second  battle.  The 
details  of  the  contest  itself  we  can  not  give,  but 
the  result  of  it  was,  that,  notwithstanding  the 
most  unparalleled  and  desperate  exertions  made 
by  Brutus  to  keep  his  men  to  the  work,  and  to 


B.C. 41.]  The   Battle   op   Philippi.  219 

Defeat  of  Bratu*.  His  retreat 

maintain  his  ground,  his  troops  were  borne  down 
and  overwh^med  by  the  irresistible  onsets  of 
his  enemies,  and  his  cause  was  irretrievably  and 
hopelessly  ruined. 

When  Brutus  found  that  all  was  lost,  he  al- 
lowed hinnself  to  be  conducted  off  the  field  by  a 
small  body  of  guards,  who,  in  their  retreat, 
broke  through  the  ranks  of  the  enemy  on  a  side 
where  they  saw  that  they  should  meet  with  the 
least  resistance.  They  were,  however,  pursued 
by  a  squadron  of  horse,  the  horsemen  being 
eager  to  make  Brutus  a  prisoner.  In  this  emer- 
gency, one  of  Brutus's  friends,  named  Luciliua, 
conceived  the  design  of  pretending  to  be  Brutusi, 
and,  as  suoh^  surrendering  himself  a  prisoner 
This  plan  he  carried  into  effect.  When  the 
troop  came  up,  he  called  out  for  quarter,  said 
that  he  was  Brutus,  and  begged  them  to  spare 
his  life,  and  to  take  him  to  Antony.  The  men 
did  so,  rejoiced  at  having,  as  they  imagined,  se- 
cured so  invaluable  a  prize. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  real  Brutus  pressed 
oa  to  make  his  escape.  He  crossed  a  brook 
which  came  in  his  way,  and  entered  into  a  little 
dell,  which  promised  to  afford  a  hiding-place, 
since  it  was  encumbered  with  precipitous  rock* 
and  shaded  with  trees.     A  few  friends  and  f\f& 


220  Clkopatba  [B.C.41 

fittoAtlait  of  Brutal  ia  Hm  glen.  The  helmet  of  watet 

oers  accompanied  Brutus  in  his  flight.  Night 
80on  came  on,  and  he  lay  down  in  a  little  recess 
under  a  shelving  rock,  exhausted  with  fatigue 
and  suffering.  Then,  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
he  imprecated,  in  lines  quoted  from  a  Greek 
poet,  the  just  judgment  of  God  upon  the  foes 
who  were  at  that  hour  triumphing  in  what  he 
considered  the  ruin  of  his  country. 

He  then,  in  his  anguish  and  despair,  enumer- 
ated by  name  the  several  friends  and  compan- 
ions whom  he  had  seen  fall  that  day  in  battle, 
mourning  the  loss  of  each  with  bitter  grief.  In 
the  mean  time,  night  was  coming  on,  and  the 
party,  concealed  thus  in  the  wild  dell,  were  des- 
titute and  unsheltered.  Hungry  and  thirsty, 
and  spent  with  fatigue  as  they  were,  there 
seemed  to  be  no  prospect  for  them  of  either  rest 
or  refreshment.  Finally  they  sent  one  of  their 
number  to  steal  softly  back  to  the  rivulet  which 
they  had  crossed  in  their  retreat,  to  bring  them 
some  water.  The  soldier  took  his  helmet  to 
bring  the  water  in,  for  want  of  any  other  vessel. 
While  Brutus  was  drinking  the  water  which 
they  brought,  a  noise  was  heard  in  the  opposite 
direction.  Two  of  the  officers  were  sent  to  as- 
eertain  the  cause.  They  came  back  soon,  re- 
porting that  there  was  a  party  of  the  enemy  in 


B.C.  41.]  The   Battle   of   Philippi.  221 

Bmtui  Burrounded.  Propoaal  of  StatDitu 

that  quarter.  They  asked  where  the  water  was 
which  had  been  brought.  Brutus  told  them 
that  it  had  all  been  drank,  but  that  he  would 
send  immediately  for  more.  The  messenger 
went  accordingly  to  the  brook  again,  but  he 
came  back  very  soon,  wounded  and  bleeding, 
and  reported  that  the  enemy  was  close  upon 
them  on  that  side  too,  and  that  he  had  narrowly 
escaped  with  his  life.  The  apprehensions  of 
Brutus's  party  were  greatly  increased  by  these 
tidings :  it  was  evident  that  all  hope  of  being 
able  to  remain  long  concealed  where  they  were 
must  fast  disappear. 

One  of  the  officers,  named  Statilius,  then  pro- 
posed to  make  the  attempt  to  find  his  way  out 
of  .the  snare  in  which  they  had  become  involved. 
He  would  go,  he  said,  as  cautiously  as  possible, 
avoiding  all  parties  of  the  enemy,  and  being 
favored  by  the  darkness  of  the  night,  he  hoped 
to  find  some  way  of  retreat.  If  he  succeeded, 
he  would  display  a  torch  on  a  distant  elevation 
which  he  designated,  so  that  the  party  in  the 
glen,  on  seeing  the  light,  might  be  assured  of 
his  safety.  He  would  then  return  and  guide 
them  all  through  the  danger,  by  the  way  which 
ae  should  have  discovered. 

This  plan  was  approved,  and  Statilius  ao- 


222  Clkopatra.  [B.C.  41 

Anxtoty  and  auapenfe.  R««oluiion  of  BnUsA 

oordingly  departed.  In  due  time  the  light  wag 
seea  burning  at  the  place  which  had  been  point 
ed  out,  and  indicating  that  Statilius  had  accom- 
plished his  undertaking.  Brutus  and  hLs  party 
were  greatly  cheered  by  the  new  hope  which 
this  result  awakened.  They  began  to  watoh 
and  listen  for  their  messenger's  return.  They 
watched  and  waited  long,  but  he  did  not  come. 
On  the  way  back  he  was  intercepted  and  slain. 
When  at  length  all  hope  that  he  would  re- 
turn was  finally  abandoned,  some  of  the  party, 
in  the  course  of  the  despairing  consultations 
which  the  unhappy  fugitives  held  with  one  an- 
other, said  that  they  must  not  remain  any  longer 
where  they  were,  but  must  make  their  escape 
from  that  spot  at  all  hazards.  "  Yes,"  said 
Brutus,  "we  must  indeed  make  our  escape 
from  our  present  situation,  but  we  must  do  it 
with  our  hands,  and  not  with  our  feet"  lie 
meant  by  this  that  the  only  means  now  left  to 
them  to  evade  their  enemies  was  self-destruc- 
tion. When  his  friends  understood  that  this 
was  his  meaning,  and  that  he  was  resolved  to 
put  this  design  into  execution  in  his  own  casei, 
they  were  overwhelmed  with  sorrow.  Brutus 
took  them,  one  by  one,  by  the  hand  and  bade 
them  farewell.    Ho  thanked  them  for  their  fidel- 


B.C.  41.]  The   Battle   of   Philippi.  223 

Brntna's  farewell  to  hia  friends.  The  last  dwj> 

ity  in  adhering  to  his  cause  to  the  last,  and  said 
that  it  was  a  source  of  great  comfort  and  satis- 
faction  to  him  that  all  his  friends  had  proved  so 
faithful  and  true.  "  I  do  not  complain  of  my 
hard  fate,"  he  added,  "  so  far  as  I  myself  am 
concerned  I  mourn  only  for  my  unhappy  coun- 
try. As  to  myself,  I  think  that  my  condition 
even  now  is  better  than  that  of  my  enemies; 
Qir,  though  I  die,  posterity  will  do  me  justice, 
and  I  shall  enjoy  forever  the  honor  which  virtue 
and  integrity  deserve  ;  while  they,  though  they 
live,  live  only  to  reap  the  bitter  fruits  of  injus- 
tice and  of  tyranny. 

"  After  I  am  gone,"  he  continued,  addressing 
his  friends,  as  before,  "  think  no  longer  of  me, 
but  take  care  of  yourselves.  Antony,  I  am  sure, 
will  be  satisfied  with  Cassius's  death  and  mine. 
He  will  not  be  disposed  to  pursue  you  vindic- 
tively any  longer.  Make  peace  with  him  on 
the  best  terms  that  you  can." 

Brutus  then  asked  first  one  and  then  an- 
other of  his  friends  to  aid  him  in  the  last  duty, 
as  he  seems  to  have  considered  it,  of  destroying 
his  life ;  but  one  after  another  declared  that 
they  could  not  do  any  thing  to  assist  him  in 
carrying  into  effect  so  dreadful  a  determination. 
Finally,  he  tool  with  him  an  old  and  long-tried 


224  Clejfatra-  B.U.  41 

Death  of  Brnto*.  Bitnatlon  of  Anton  j 

friend  named  Strato,  and  went  away  a  little, 
apart  from  the  rest.  Here  he  solicited  onoc 
more  the  favor  which  had  been  refused  him  be- 
fore—begging that  Strato  would  hold  out  his 
sword.  Strato  still  refused.  Brutus  then  called 
one  of  his  slaves.  Upon  this  Strato  declared 
that  he  would  do  ^ny  thing  rather  than  that 
Brutus  should  die  by  the  hand  of  a  slave.  He 
took  the  sword,  and  with  his  right  hand  held  it 
extended  in  the  air.  With  the  left  hand  he 
covered  his  eyes,  that  he  might  not  witness  the 
horrible  spectacle.  Brutus  rushed  upon  the 
point  of  the  weapon  with  such  fatal  force  that 
he  fell  and  immediately  expired. 

Thus  ended  the  great  and  famous  battle  ol 
Philippi,  celebrated  in  history  as  marking  the 
termination  of  the  great  conflict  between  the 
friends  and  the  enemies  of  Cassar,  which  agita> 
tod  the  world  so  deeply  after  the  conqueror's 
death.  This  battle  established  the  ascendencj 
of  Antony,  and  made  him  for  a  time  the  mcml 
eonspiouous  man,  as  Cleopatia  was  the  moti 
ecnspicnous  woman,  in  the  world. 


B.C.  il.]  Cleopatra  and  Antony.      226 

Glaopwn  eaponaw  Antony's  ea«M.  Her  mottre*. 


Chapter  X. 
Cleopatra  and  Antony. 

HOW  far  Cleopatra  was  influenced,  in  het 
determination  to  espouse  the  cause  of  An- 
tony rather  than  that  of  Brutus  and  Cassius,  in 
the  civil  war  described  in  the  last  chapter,  by 
gratitude  to  Caesar,  and  how  far,  on  the  other 
hand,  by  personal  interest  in  Antony,  the  read- 
er must  judge.  Cleopatra  had  seen  Antony,  it 
will  be  recollected,  some  years  before,  during 
his  visit  to  Egypt,  when  she  was  a  young  girl. 
She  was  doubtless  well  acquainted  with  his 
character.  It  was  a  character  peculiarly  fitted, 
in  some  respects,  to  captivate  the  imagination 
of  a  woman  so  ardent,  and  impulsive,  and  bold 
as  Cleopatra  was  fast  becoming. 

Antony  had,  in  fact,  made  himself  an  object 
of  universal  interest  throughout  the  world,  by 
his  wild  and  eccentric  manners  and  recklesJl 
conduct,  and  by  the  very  extraordinary  vicissi- 
tudes which  had  marked  his  career.  In  moral 
character  he  was  as  utterly  abandoned  and  de- 
praved as  it  was  possible  to  be.  In  early  Iif(». 
16—15 


226  Cleopatra.  [6.C.41 

Aotony**  early  life.  Bla  character 

as  has  already  been  stated,  he  plunged  into  such 
a  course  of  dissipation  and  extravagance  that 
he  became  utterly  and  hopelessly  ruined ;  or, 
rather,  he  would  have  been  so,  had  he  not,  by 
the  influence  of  that  magic  power  of  fascination 
which  such  characters  often  possess,  succeeded 
in  gaining  a  great  -ascendency  over  a  young 
man  of  immense  fortune,  named  Curio,  who  for 
a  time  upheld  him  by  becoming  surety  for  hia 
debts.  This  resource,  however,  soon  failed,  and 
Antony  was  compelled  to  abandon  Rome,  and 
to  live  for  some  years  as  a  fugitive  and  exile,  in 
dissolute  wretchedness  and  want.  During  all 
the  subsequent  vicissitudes  through  which  he 
passed  in  the  course  of  his  career,  the  same 
habits  of  lavish  expenditure  continued,  when- 
ever he  had  funds  at  his  command.  This  trait 
in  his  character  took  the  form  sometimes  of  a 
noble  generosity.  In  his  campaigns,  the  plun- 
der which  he  acquired  he  usually  divided  among 
his  sokliers,  reserving  nothing  for  himself  This 
made  his  men  enthusiastically  devoted  to  him, 
and  led  them  to  consider  his  prodigality  as  a 
virtue,  even  when  they  did  not  themselves  de- 
rive any  direct  advantage  from  it.  A  thousand 
stories  were  always  in  circulation  in  camp  of 
acts  on  his  part  illustrating  his  reckless  disre* 


B.C. 41.]  Cleopatra  and  Antony.       227 


Penonal  biabiu  of  Antony  H]a  drsM  and  manoMna 

gard  of  the  value  of  money,  some  Indiorons,  and 
all  eooentrio  and  strange. 

In  his  personal  habits,  too,  he  was  as  differ- 
ent as  possible  from  other  men.  He  prided  him- 
self on  being  descended  from  Hercules,  and  he 
affected  a  style  of  dress  and  a  general  air  and 
manner  in  accordance  with  the  savage  charac 
ter  of  this  his  pretended  ancestor.  His  features 
were  sharp,  his  nose  was  arched  and  prominent, 
and  he  wore  his  hair  and  beard  very  long — bb 
ong,  in  fact,  as  he  could  make  them  grow. 
These  peculiarities  imparted  to  his  countenance 
a  very  wild  and  ferocious  expression.  He  adopt- 
ed a  style  of  dress,  too,  which,  judged  of  with 
reference  to  the  prevailing  fashions  of  the  time, 
gave  to  his  whole  appearance  a  rough,  savage, 
and  reckless  air  His  manner  and  demeanor 
corresponded  with  his  dress  and  appearance. 
He  lived  in  habits  of  the  most  unreserved  fa- 
miliarity with  his  soldiers.  He  associated  free- 
ly with  them,  ate  and  drank  with  them  in  the 
open  sdr,  and  joined  in  their  noisy  mirth  and 
rude  and  boisterous  hilarity.  His  commandmg 
poweis  of  mind,  and  the  desperate  recklessness 
of  his  courage,  enabled  him  to  do  all  this  with- 
out danger.  These  qualities  inspired  in  the 
minds  of  the  soldiers  a  feeling  of  profound  re> 


228  Cleopatra.  [8.0.41 

Vldoiu  tatdoIgencM  of  Antony.  PnbUo  eoodeninatlaik. 

speot  for  their  commander ;  and  this  good  opin- 
ion he  was  enabled  to  retain,  notwithstanding 
such  habits  of  familiarity  with  his  inferiors  as 
would  have  been  fatal  to  the  influence  of  an  cr- 
dinary  man. 

In  the  most  prosperous  portion  of  Antony's 
career — for  example,' during  the  period  imme- 
diately preceding  the  death  of  Caesar — he  ad- 
dicted himself  to  vicious  indulgences  of  the  most 
open,  public,  and  shameless  character.  He  had 
around  him  a  sort  of  court,  formed  of  jesters, 
tumblers,  mountebanks,  play-actors,  and  other 
similar  characters  of  the  lowest  and  most  dis- 
reputable class.  Many  of  these  companions 
were  singing  and  dancing  girls,  very  beautiful, 
and  very  highly  accomplished  in  the  arts  of 
their  respective*  professions,  but  all  totally  cor- 
rupt and  depraved.  Public  sentiment,  even  in 
that  age  and  nation,  strongly  condemned  this 
conduct.  The  people  were  pagans,  it  is  true, 
but  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  forma- 
tion of  a  moral  sentiment  in  the  community 
against  such  vices  as  these  is  a  work  which 
Christianity  alone  can  perform.  There  is  a  law 
o<*  nature,  in  the  form  of  an  instinct  universal 
ui  the  race,  imperiously  enjoining  that  the  oon- 
aection  of  the  sexes  shall  consist  of  th«)  ^nion 


B.C  41.]   'Cleopatra  and  Antony.      229 

Tieet  of  the  great  CaodldateB  for  offica 

of  one  man  with  one  woman,  and  that  woman 
his  wife,  and  very  sternly  prohibiting  every  otli- 
er.  So  that  there  has  probably  never  been  a 
community  in  the  world  so  corrupt,  that  a  man 
could  practice  in  it  such  vices  as  those  of  An- 
tony, without  not  only  violating  his  own  sense 
of  right  and  wrong,  but  also  bringing  upon  him- 
self the  general  condemnation  of  those  around 
him. 

Still,  the  world  are  prone  to  be  very  tolerant 
in  respect  to  the  vices  cf  the  great.  Such  ex- 
alted personages  as  Antony  seem  to  be  judged 
by  a  different  standard  from  common  men. 
Even  in  the  countries  where  those  who  occupy 
high  stations  of  trust  or  of  power  are  actually 
selected,  for  the  purpose  of  being  placed  there, 
by  the  voices  of  their  fellow-men,  all  inquiry 
into  the  personal  character  of  a  candidate  is 
often  suppressed,  such  inquiry  being  condemned 
as  wholly  irrelevant  and  improper,  and  they 
who  succeed  in  attaining  to  power  enjoy  im- 
munities in  their  elevation  which  are  denied 
to  common  men. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  influence  of  An- 
tony's  rank  and  power  in  shielding  him  from 
public  censure,  he  carried  his  excesses  to  such 
an  extreme  that  his  conduit  was  very  loudly 


230  Cleopatra.  (B.C.41 

Aatany't  exeoMW^  BSa  loxory  and  extrarafanea 

and  very  generally  condemned.  He  would 
spend  all  the  night  in  carousals,  and  then,  the 
aext  day,  would  appear  in  public,  staggering  in 
the  streets.  Sometimes  he  would  enter  the  tri- 
bunals for  the  transaction  of  business  when  he 
was  so  intoxicated  that  it  would  be  necessary 
for  friends  to  come  to  his  assistance  to  conduct 
him  away.  In  some  of  his  journeys  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Rome,  he  would  take  a  troop 
of  companions  with  him  of  the  worst  possible 
character,  and  travel  with  them  openly  and 
without  shame.  There  was  a  certain  actress, 
named  Cytheride,  whom  he  made  his  compan- 
ion on  one  such  occasion.  She  was  borne  upon 
a  litter  in  his  train,  and  he  carried  about  with 
him  a  vast  collection  of  gold  and  silver  plate, 
and  of  splendid  table  furniture,  together  with 
an  endless  supply  of  luxurious  articles  of  food 
and  of  wine,  to  provide  for  the  entertainments 
and  banquets  which  he  was  to  celebrate  with 
her  on  the  journey.  He  would  sometimes  stop 
by  the  road  side,  pitch  his  tents,  establish  his 
kitchens,  set  his  cooks  at  work  to  prepare  a 
feast,  spread  his  tables,  and  make  a  sumptuous 
banquet  of  the  most  costly,  complete,  and  cer- 
emonious character — all  to  make  men  wonder 
at  the  abundance  and  perfection  of  the  means 


B.C. 41.]  Cleopatra  and  Antonf.      231 

Antony's  energy.  Hia  powers  of  endiiraDca 

of  luxury  which  he  could  carry  with  him  wher- 
ever he  might  go.  In  fact,  he  always  seemed 
to  feel  a  special  pleasure  in  doing  strange  ind 
extraordinary  things  in  order  to  excite  surprise. 
Once  on  a  journey  he  had  lions  harnessed  to  hia 
carts  to  draw  his  baggage,  in  order  to  create  a 
cionsation. 

Notwithstanding  the  heedlessness  with  which 
Antony  abandoned  himself  to  these  luxurious 
pleasures  when  at  Rome,  no  man  could  endure 
exposure  and  hardship  better  when  in  camp  or 
on  the  field.  In  fact,  he  rushed  with  as  much 
headlong  precipitation  into  difficulty  and  danger 
when  abroad,  as  into  expense  and  dissipation 
when  at  home.  During  his  contests  with  Oo- 
tavius  and  Lepidus,  after  Caesar's  death,  he  Mice 
had  occasion  to  pass  the  Alps,  which,  with  his 
customary  recklessness,  he  attempted  to  trav- 
erse without  any  proper  supplies  of  stores  or 
means  of  transportation.  He  was  reduced,  on 
the  passage,  together  with  the  troops  under  his 
command,  to  the  most  extreme  destitution  and 
distress.  They  had  to  feed  on  roots  and  herbs, 
and  finally  on  the  bark  of  trees ;  and  they  barely 
preserved  themselves,  by  these  means,  from  ac- 
tual starvation.  Antony  seemed,  however,  to 
eare  nothing  for  all  this,  but  pressed  on  through 


232  Cleopatra.  [R.CAl 

Antoay'i  vMiaitodes.  He  Inveigle*  away  the  troops  of  Lepldna 
1 

the  difficulty  and  danger,  manifesting  the  same 
daring  and  determined  unconcern  to  the  end. 
In  the  same  campaign  he  found  himself  at  one 
time  reduced  to  extreme  destitution  in  respect 
to  men.  His  troops  had  been  gradually  wasted 
away  until  his  situation  had  become  very  des- 
perate. He  conceived,  under  these  circum- 
stances, the  most  extraordinary  idea  of  going 
over  alone  to  the  camp  of  Lepidus  and  enticing 
»way  his  rival's  troops  from  under  the  very  eyes 
of  their  commander.  This  bold  design  was  suc- 
cessfully executed.  Antony  advanced  aloiie, 
clothed  in  wretched  garments,  and  with  his 
matted  hair  and  beard  hanging  about  his  breast 
and  shoulders,  up  to  Lepidus's  lines.  The  men, 
who  knew  him  well,  received  him  with  accla- 
mations ;  and  pitying  the  sad  condition  to  which 
they  saw  that  he  was  reduced,  began  to  listen 
to  what  he  had  to  say.  Lepidus,  who  could 
not  attack  him,  since  he  and  Antony  were  not 
at  that  time  in  open  hostility  to  each  other,  but 
were  only  rival  commanders  in  the  same  army, 
'ordered  the  trumpeters  to  sound,  in  order  to 
make  a  noise  which  should  prevent  the  words 
of  Antony  from  being  heard.  This  interrupted 
the  negotiation;  but  the  men  immediately  di> 
ifuised  two  of  their  number  in  female  apparal 


B.C. 41.]  Cleopatra  and  Anton*.      233 

Antony't  murUge.  Fnlvla'*  charmctM 

and  sent  them  to  Antony  to  make  arrange- 
ments with  him  for  putting  themselves  under 
his  command,  and  offering,  at  the  same  time, 
to  murder  Lepidus,  if  he  would  but  speak  the 
word.  Antony  charged  them  to  do  Lepidus  no 
injury.  He,  however,  went  over  and  took  pos- 
session of  the  camp,  and  assumed  the  command 
of  the  army.  He  treated  Lepidus  himself,  per- 
sonally, with  extreme  politeness,  and  retained 
him  as  a  subordinate  under  his  command. 

Not  far  from  the  time  of  Caesar's  death,  An- 
tony was  married.  The  name  of  the  lady  was 
Fulvia.  She  was  a  widow  at  the  time  of  her 
marriage  with  Antony,  and  was  a  woman  of 
very  marked  and  decided  character.  She  had 
led  a  wild  and  irregular  life  previous  to  thii 
ime,  but  she  conceived  a  very  strong  attach* 
.nent  to  her  new  husband,  and  devoted  herself 
to  him  from  the  time  of  her  marriage  with  the 
most  constant  fidelity.  She  soon  acquired  a 
very  great  ascendency  over  him,  aiid  was  th« 
means  of  effecting  a  very  considerable  reform  in 
his  conduct  and  character.  She  was  an  ambi- 
tious and  aspiring  woman,  and  made  many  very 
efficient  and  successful  efforts  to  promote  the 
elevation  and  aggrandizement  of  her  husband. 
She  appeared,  also,  to  take  a  great  pride  and 


234  Cleopatra.  {B.C.  41 

Palrb't  liifla«iMe  «>T«r  Anttmj.  The  curddeti  ratan. 

pleasure  in  exercising  over  him,  herself,  a  great 
personal  control.  She  succeeded  in  these  at- 
tempts in  a  manner  that  surprised  every  body. 
It  seemed  astonishing  to  all  mankind  that  such 
a  tiger  as  he  had  been  could  be  subdued  by  any 
human  power.  Nor,  was  it  by  gentleness  and 
mildness  that  Fulvia  gained  such  power  over 
her  husband.  She  was  of  a  very  stern  and 
masculine  character,  and  she  seems  to  have 
mastered  Antony  by  surpassing  him  in  the  use 
of  h  is  own  weapons.  In  fact,  instead  of  attempt 
ing  to  soothe  and  mollify  him,  she  reduced  him, 
it  seems,  to  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  various 
contrivances  to  soften  and  propitiate  her.  Once, 
for  example,  on  his  return  from  a  campaign  in 
which  he  had  been  exposed  to  great  dangers, 
he  disguised  himself  and  came  home  at  night 
in  the  garb  of  a  courier  bearing  dispatches.  He 
causal  himself  to  be  ushered,  muffled  and  dis* 
guised  as  he  was,  into  Fulvia's  apartments, 
where  he  handed  her  some  pretended  letters, 
which,  he  said,  were  from  her  husband ;  and 
while  Fulvia  was  opening  them  in  great  ex- 
citement and  trepidation,  he  threw  off  his  dis- 
guise, and  revealed  himself  to  her  by  clasping 
her  in  his  arms  an  i  kissing  her  in  the  midsi  of 
her  amazement. 


B.C. 41.j  Cleopatra  anp  Antont.      235 

Changa  In  Antony*!  character.  HIa  genarodty 

Antony's  marriage  with  Fulvia,  besides  being 
the  means  of  reforming  his  morals  in  some  de- 
gree, softened  and  civilized  him  in  re?pect  to 
his  manners.  His  dress  and  appearance  now 
assumed  a  different  character.  In  fact,  his  po- 
litical elevation  after  Caesar's  death  soon  became 
very  exalted,  and  the  various  democratic  arts 
by  which  he  had  sought  to  raise  himself  to  it, 
being  now  no  longer  necessary,  were,  as  usual 
in  such  case?  gradually  discarded.  He  lived 
in  great  style  and  splendor  when  at  Rome,  and 
when  absent  from  home,  on  his  military  cam- 
paigns, he  began  to  exhibit  the  same  pomp  and 
parade  in  his  equipage  and  in  his  arrangements 
as  were  usual  in  the  camps  of  other  Roman 
generals. 

After  the  battle  of  Philippi,  described  in  the 
last  chapter,  Antony — who,  with  all  his  faults, 
was  sometimes  a  very  generous  foe — as  soon  as 
the  tidings  of  Brutus's  death  were  brought  to 
him,  repaired  immediately  to  the  spot,  and  ap- 
peared to  be  quite  shocked  and  concerned  at 
the  sight  of  the  body.  He  took  off  his  own  mil- 
itary cloak  or  mantle — which  was  a  very  mag- 
nificent and  costly  garment,  being  enriched  with 
many  expensive  ornaments — and  spread  it  over 
the  corpse.     He  then  gave  directions  to  one  of 


236  Clkopatra.  [B.C.  41 

Foneral  eeremonlea  of  Brutaa.  Antony*!  mor«meat» 

the  officers  of  his  household  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  funeral  ceremonies  of  a  very  impooing 
character,  as  a  testimony  of  his  respect  for  the 
memory  of  the  deceased.  In  these  ceremonies 
it  was  the  duty  of  the  officer  to  have  burned 
the  military  cloak  which  Antony  had  appropri- 
ated  to  the  purpose  of  a  pall,  with  the  body 
He  did  not,  however,  do  so.  The  cloak  being 
very  valuable,  he  reserved  it ;  and  he  withheld, 
also,  a  considerable  part  of  the  money  which 
had  been  given  him  for  the  expenses  of  the  fu- 
neral.  He  supposed  that  Antony  would  proba- 
bly not  inquire  very  closely  into  the  details  of 
the  arrangements  made  for  the  funeral  of  his 
most  inveterate  enemy.  Antony,  however,  did 
inquire  into  them,  and  when  he  learned  what 
the  officer  had  done,  he  ordered  him  to  be  killed. 
The  various  political  changes  which  occur- 
red, and  the  movements  which  took  place  among 
the  several  armies  after  the  battle  of  Philipf  i, 
can  not  be  here  detailed.  It  is  sufficient  to  say 
that  Antony  proceeded  to  the  eastward  through 
Asia  Minor,  and  in  the  course  of  the  following 
year  came  into  Cilicia.  From  this  place  he 
sent  a  messenger  to  Egypt  to  Cleopatra,  sum- 
moning her  to  appear  befrre  him.  There  were 
charges,  he  said,  against  her,  of  having  aided 


B.C.41.]    Cleopatra  and  Antony.      23'3 


intony'i  summons  to  Cleopatra.  The  meg8eiii;er  Oelliiia 

Cassius  and  Brutus  in  the  late  war  instead  of 
rendering  assistance  to  him.  Whether  there 
really  were  any  such  charges,  or  whether  they 
were  only  fabricated  by  Antony  as  pretexts  for 
seeing  Cleopatra,  the  fame  of  whose  beauty  was 
very  widely  extended,  does  not  certainly  appear. 
However  this  may  be,  he  sent  to  summon  the 
queen  to  come  to  him.  The  name  of  the  mes- 
senger whom  Antony  dispatched  on  this  errand 
was  Dellius.  Fulvia,  Antony's  wife,  was  not 
with  him  at  this  time.  She  had  been  left  be. 
hind  at  Rome. 

Dellius  proceeded  to  Egypt  and  appeared  at 
Cleopatra's  court.  The  queen  was  at  this  time 
about  twenty-eight  years  old,  but  more  beauti- 
ful, as  was  said,  than  ever  before.  Dellius  was 
■very  much  struck  with  her  beauty,  and  with  a 
certain  fascination  in  her  voice  and  conversation, 
of  which  her  ancient  biographers  often  speak  as 
one  of  the  most  irresistible  of  her  charms.  He 
told  her  that  she  need  have  no  fear  of  Antony. 
It  was  of  no  consequence,  he  said,  what  charg- 
es there  might  be  against  her.  She  would  find 
*ihat,  in  a  very  few  days  after  she  had  entered 
into  Antony's  presence,  she  would  be  in  great 
favor.  She  might  rely,  in  fact,  he  said,  on  gain- 
ins:,  very  speedily,  an  unbounded  ascendono} 


238  Ulkopatra  [B.C.41 

Cleopatra  raaolve*  to  go  to  Antony.  Hnr  preparaOofM 

over  the  general.  He  advised  her,  therefore,  to 
proceed  to  Cilicia  without  fear,  and  to  present 
herself  before  Antony  in  as  much  pomp  and 
magnificence  as  she  could  command-  He  would 
answer,  he  said,  for  the  result. 

Cleopatra  determined  to  follow  this  advice. 
In  fact,  her  ardent  and  impulsive  imagination 
was'  fired  with  the  idea  of  making,  a  second 
time,  the  conquest  of  the  greatest  general  and 
highest  potentate  in  the  world.  She  began  im- 
mexliately  to  make  provision  for  the  voyage. 
She  employed  all  the  resources  of  her  kingdom 
in  pnwuring  for  herself  the  most  magnificent 
means  of  display,  such  as  expensive  and  splen- 
did dresses,  rich  services  of  plate,  ornaments  of 
precious  stones  and  of  gold,  and  presents  in 
great  variety  and  of  the  most  costly  description 
for  Antony.  She  appointed,  also,  a  numerous 
retinue  of  attendants  to  accompany  her,  and,  in 
a.  word,  made  a^  the  arrangements  complete  for 
an  expedition  ol  the  most  imposing  and  mag- 
nificent character.  While  these  preparations 
were  going  forward,  she  received  new  and  fre. 
qnent  communications  from  Antony,  urging  her 
to  hasten  her  departure ;  but  she  paid  very  lit- 
tle attention  to  them.  It  was  evident  that  she 
fslt  quite  independent,  and  was  intending  tf 
Jte  bnr  own  tiiam» 


B.C.41.]  Cleopatra,  and  Antony.      239 

Ctoopatra  enten  the  Cjdmu.  Her  iplendid  barge. 

At  length,  however,  all  was  ready,  and  Cle- 
opatra set  sail.  She  crossed  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  and  entereii  the  mouth  of  the  River  Cyd- 
au8.  Antony  was  at  Tarsus,  a  city  upon  the 
Cydnus,  a  small  distance  above  its  mouth. 
When  Cleopatra's  fleet  had  entered  the  river, 
she  embarked  on  board  a  most  magnificent 
barge  which  she  had  constructed  for  the  occa- 
sion, and  had  brought  with  her  across  the  sea. 
This  barge  was  the  most  magnificent  and  high- 
ly-ornamented vessel  that  had  ever  been  built. 
It  was  adorned  with  carvings  and  decorations 
of  the  finest  workmanship,  and  elaborately  gild- 
ed. The  sails  were  of  purple,  and  the  oars 
were  inlaid  and  tipped  with  silver.  Upon  the 
deck  of  this  barge  Queen  Cleopatra  appeared, 
ander  a  canopy  o{  cloth  of  gold.  She  was  dressed 
very  magnificently  in  the  costume  in  which  Ve- 
nus, the  goddess  of  Beauty,  was  then  generally 
represented.  She  was  surrounded  by  a  compa- 
ny of  beautiful  boys,  who  attended  upon  her  in 
the  form  of  Cupids,  and  fanned  her  with  their 
wings,  and  by  a  group  of  young  girls  represent" 
ing  the  Nymphs  and  the  Graces.  There  was 
a  band  of  musicians  stationed  upon  the  deck. 
This  music  guided  the  oarsmen,  as  they  kept 
time  to  it  in  their  rowing ;  and,  soft  as  the  m«l. 


240  Cleopatra.  [B,C.4l 

A  aeene  of  enchantment  Antony*!  InTltation  refnaed 

ody  was,  the  strains  were  heard  far  and  wide 
over  the  water  and  along  the  shores,  as  the 
beautiful  vessel  advanced  on  its  way.  The 
performers  were  provided  with  flutes,  lyres,  vi- 
ols, and  all  the  other  instruments  customarily 
used  in  those  times  to  produce  music  of  a  gen- 
tle and  voluptuous  ,kind. 

In  fact,  the  whole  spectacle  seemed  like  a 
vision  of  enchantment.  Tidings  of  the  approach 
of  the  barge  spread  rapidly  around,  and  the 
people  of  the  country  came  down  in  crowds  to 
the  shores  of  the  river  to  gaze  upon  it  in  admi- 
ration as  it  glided  slowly  along.  At  the  time 
of  its  arrival  at  Tarsus,  Antony  was  engaged 
in  giving  a  public  audience  at  some  tribunal  in 
his  palace,  but  every  body  ran  to  see  Cleopatra 
and  the  barge,  and  the  great  triumvir  was  hift 
consequently  alone,  or,  at  least,  with  only  a 
few  official  attendants  near  him.  Cleopatra, 
on  arriving  at  the  city,  landed,  and  began  to 
pitch  her  tents  on  the  shores.  Antony  sent  a 
messenger  to  bid  her  welcome,  and  to  invite  her 
to  come  and  sup  with  him.  She  declined  the 
invitation,  saying  that  it  was  more  proper  .nat 
he  should  come  and  sup  with  her.  She  wou.d 
accordingly  expect  him  to  come,  she  said,  and 
h«r  tents  would  be  ready  at  the  proper-  hour 


B.C'.  411   ANTO^r  and   Cleopatra.     243 

Cleopatra's  recieption  of  Antony.  Antony  ontdon*. 

Antony  complied  with  her  proposal,  and  oam« 
to  her  entertainment.  He  was  received  with  a 
magnificence  and  splendor  which  amazed  him. 
Tne  tents  and  pavilions  where  the  entertain- 
ment was  made  were  illuminated  with  an  im- 
mense number  of  lamps.  These  lamps  were 
arranged  in  a  very  ingenious  and  beautiful 
manner,  so  as  to  produce  an  illumination  of  the 
moi*t  surprising  brilliancy  and  beauty.  The 
immense  number  and  variety,  too,  of  the  meats 
and  wines,  and  of  the  vessels  of  gold  and  silver, 
with  which  the  tables  were  loaded,  and  the 
magnificence  and  splendor  of  the  dresses  worn 
by  Cleopatra  and  her  attendants,  combined  to 
render  the  whole  scene  one  of  bewildering  en 
ohantment. 

The  next  day,  Antony  invited  Cleopatra  to 
oome  and  return  his  visit ;  but,  though  he  made 
every  possible  effort  to  provide  a  banquet  as 
sumptuous  and  as  sumptuouslv  served  as  hers, 
he  failed  entirely  in  this  attempt,  and  acknowl- 
edged himself  completely  outdone.  Antcny 
was,  moreover,  at  these  interviews,  perfectly 
fascinated  with  Cleopatra's  charms.  Her  beau- 
ty, her  wit,  her  thousand  accomplishments,  and, 
above  all,  the  tact,  and  adroitness,  and  self-posh 
vession  which  she  displayed  in  assuming  at  onoe 


;J44  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  41 

Murder  «f  Ardnol.  Cleopatra's  manner  of  Ufa  at  Tamw 

80  boldly,  and  carrying  out  so  adroitly,  the  idea 
of  her  social  superiority  over  him,  that  he  yield- 
ed his  heart  almost  immediately  to  her  undis* 
puted  sway. 

The  first  use  which  Cleopartra  made  of  hei 
power  was  to  ask  Antony,  for  her  sake,  to  or- 
der her  sister  Arsinoe  to  be  slain.  Arsinoe 
had  gone,  it  will  be  recollected,  to  Rome,  tc 
grace  Caesar's  triumph  there,  and  had  afterward 
retired  to  Asia,  where  she  was  now  living  an 
exile.  Cleopatra,  either  from  a  sentiment  of 
past  revenge,  or  else  from  some  apprehensiona 
of  future  danger,  now  desired  that  her  sister 
should  die.  Antony  readily  acceded  to  her  re- 
quest. He  sent  an  officer  in  search  of  the  un- 
happy princess.  The  officer  slew  her  where  he 
found  her,  within  the  precincts  of  a  temple  to 
which  she  had  fled,  supposing  it  a  sanctuary 
which  ao  degree  of  hostility,  however  extreme, 
would  have  dared  to  violate. 

Cleopatra  remained  at  Tarsus  for  some  time, 
revolving  in  an  incessant  round  of  gayety  and 
pleasure,  and  living  in  habits  of  unrestrained 
intimacy  with  Antony.  She  was  accustomed 
to  spend  whole  days  and  nights  with  him  in 
feasting  and  revelry.  The  immense  magnifi- 
oenoe  of  these   entertainments,  especially  on 


B.C. 41.]  Antony  and   Cleopatra.     245 

CTleopatra'i  mnnlflcenoe.  Story  of  the  peult 

Cleopatra's  part,  were  the  wonder  of  the  world 
She  seems  to  have  taken  special  pleasure  in  ex- 
citing Antony's  surprise  by  the  display  of  her 
wealth  and  the  boundless  extravagance  in  which 
she  indulged.  At  one  of  her  banquets,  Antony 
was  expressing  his  astonishment  at  the  vast 
number  of  gold  cups,  enriched  with  jewels,  that 
were  displayed  on  all  sides.  "  Oh,"  said  she, 
"  they  are  nothing ;  if  you  like  them,  you  shall 
have  them  aU."  So  saying,  she  ordered  her 
servants  to  carry  them  to  Antony's  house.  The 
next  day  she  invited  Antony  again,  with  a  large 
number  of  the  chief  officers  of  his  army  and 
court.  The  table  was  spread  with  a  new  serv- 
ice of  gold  and  silver  vessels,  more  extensive 
and  splendid  than  that  of  the  preceding  day^ 
and  at  the  close  of  the  supper,  when  the  com- 
pany  was  about  to  depart,  Cleopatra  distribu- 
ted all  these  treasures  among  the  guests  that 
lad  been  present  at  the  entertainment.  At  an- 
other of  these  feasts,  she  carried  her  ostentation 
and  display  to  the  astonishing  extreme  of  tak- 
ing off  from  one  of  her  ear-rings  a  pearl  of  im 
mense  value  and  dissolving  it  in  a  cup  of  vine- 
gar,* which  she  afterward  made  into  a  drink, 

*  Pearls,  being  of  the  natore  of  shell  in  their  compositioa 
■od  •tmctnre,  are  lolable  in  certain  acids. 


246  Cleopatra.  {B.CAl 

fDaitt>B  ol  Fiilvta.  Her  nudety  and  diatraM 

such  as  was  customarily  used  in  those  day?, 
and  then  drank  it.  She  was  proceeding  to  do 
the  same  with  the  other  pearl,  when  some  of 
the  company  arrested  the  proceeding,  and  took 
the  remaining  pearl  away. 

In  the  mean  time,  while  Antony  was  thus 
wasting  his  time  in  luxury  and  pleasure  with 
Cleopatra,  his  public  duties  were  neglected,  and 
every  thing  was  getting  into  confusion.  Fulvia 
remained  in  Italy.  Her  position  and  her  char- 
acter gave  her  a  commanding  political  influence, 
and  she  exerted  herself  in  a  very  energetic  man> 
ner  to  sustain,  in  that  quarter  of  the  world,  the 
interests  of  her  husband's  cause.  She  was  sur- 
rounded with  difficulties  and  dangers,  the  de- 
tails of  which  can.  not,  however,  be  here  partio- 
nlarly  described.  She  wrote  continually  to  An- 
tony, urgently  entreating  him  to  come  to  Rome, 
and  displaying  in  her  letters  all  those  marks  of 
agitation  and  ditstress  which  a  wife  would  natu- 
rally feel  under  the  circumstances  in  which  she 
was  placed.  The  thought  that  her  husband 
had  been  so  completely  drawn  away  from  her 
by  the  guilty  arts  of  such  a  woman,  and  led  by 
ber  to  abandon  his  wife  and  his  family,  and 
leavo  in  neglect  and  confusion  concerns  of  such 
niorn<3ntoas  nuignitude  as  those  wLMsh  demand 


H.C.41.J  Antony  and  Cieopatra-      247 

Uitony  propose*  to  go  to  Romn.         Hi*  plana  frustrated  by  Cleopatra 

ed  his  attention  at  honne,  produced  an  excite- 
ment in  her  mind  bordering  upon  phrensy  An* 
tony  was  at  length  so  far  influenced  by  the  ur- 
gency of  the  case  that  he  determined  to  return. 
He  broke  up  his  quarters  at  Tarsus  and  moved 
south  toward  Tyre,  which  was  a  great  naval 
port  and  station  in  those  days.  Cleopatra  went 
with  him.  They  were  to  separate  at  Tyre 
She  was  to  embark  there  for  Egypt,  and  he  for 
Rome. 

At  least  that  was  Antony's  plan,  but  it  was 
not  Cleopatra's.  She  had  determined  that  An- 
tony should  go  with  her  to  Alexandria.  As 
might  have  been  expected,  when  the  time  came 
for  the  decision,  the  woman  gained  the  day. 
Her  flatteries,  her  arts,  her  caresses,  her  tears, 
prevailed.  After  a  brief  struggle  between  the 
sentiment  of  love  on  the  one  hand  and  those  of 
ambition  and  of  duty  combined  on  the  other, 
Antony  gave  up  the  contest.  Abandoning 
every  thing  else,  he  surrendered  himself  wholly 
to  Cleopatra's  control,  and  went  with  her  to 
Alexandria.  He  spent  the  winter  there,  giving 
himself  up  with  her  to  every  species  of  sensual 
indulgence  that  the  most  remorseless  license 
oould  tolerate,  and  the  most  unbounded  wealth 
procure. 


248  Cleopatra.  |B.C.41. 

Antony'i  InfttnatlOB.  FaMttng  and  rarvliy 

There  seemed,  in  fact,  to  be  no  bounds  to  the 
extravagance  and  infatuation  which  Antony  dis- 
played during  the  winter  in  Alexandria.  Cleo- 
patra devoted  herself  to  him  incessantly,  day  and 
night,  filling  up  every  moment  of  time  with  some 
new  form  of  pleasure,  in  order  that  he  might 
have  no  time  to  think  of  his  absent  wife,  or  to 
Usten  to  the  reproaches  of  his  conscience.  An- 
tony, on  his  part,  surrendered  himself  a  willing 
victim  to  these  wiles,  and  entered  with  all  his 
heart  into  the  thousand  plans  of  gayety  and 
merry-making  which  Cleopatra  devised.  They 
had  each  a  separate  establishment  in  the  city, 
which  was  maintained  at  an  enormous  cost,  smd 
they  made  a  regular  arrangement  by  which  each 
was  the  guest  of  the  other  on  alternate  days. 
These  visits  were  spent  in  games,  sports,  spec- 
tacles, feasting,  dnnking,  and  in  every  species 
of  riot,  irregularity,  and  excess. 

A  curious  instance  is  afforded  of  the  acci- 
dental manner  in  which  intelligence  in  respect 
to  the  scenes  and  incidents  of  private  life  in 
ihose  ancient  days  is  sometimes  obtained,  in  a 
circumstance  which  occurred  at  this  time  at 
Antony's  court.  It  seems  that  there  was  a 
young  medical  student  at  Alexandria  that  win- 
ter, named  Philotas,  who  happen^,  in  some 


B.C.  41.]  Antony  and  Cleopatra.      249 

PhUotM.  The  ttory  of  the  eight  bourn 

way  or  other,  to  have  formed  an  acquaintance 
with  one  of  Antony's  domestics,  a  cook.  Under 
the  guidance  of  this  cook,  Philotas  went  one  day 
into  the  palace  to  see  what  was  to  be  seen.  The 
cook  took  his  friend  into  the  kitchens,  where, 
to  Philotas's  great  surprise,  he  saw,  among  an 
infinite  number  and  variety  of  other  prepara- 
tions, eight  wild  boars  roasting  before  the  fires, 
•ome  being  more  and  some  less  advanced  in  the 
process.  Philotas  asked  what  great  company 
was  to  dine  there  that  day.  The  cook  smiled 
at  this  question,  and  replied  that  there  was  to 
be  no  company  at  all,  other  than  Antony's  ordi- 
nary party.  "  But,"  said  the  cook,  in  explana- 
tion, "  we  are  obliged  always  to  prepare  several 
suppers,  and  to  have  them  ready  in  succession 
at  different  hours,  for  no  one  can  tell  at  what 
time  they  will  order  the  entertainment  to  be 
served.  Sometimes,  when  the  supper  has  been 
actually  carried  in,  Antony  and  Cleopatra  will 
get  engaged  in  some  new  turn  of  their  diver- 
sions, and  conclude  not  to  sit  down  just  then  tc 
the  table,  and  so  we  have  to  take  the  eupper 
away,  and  presently  bring  in  another." 

Antony  had  a  s^n  with  him  at  Alexandria  at 
this  time,  the  child  of  his  wife  Fulvia.  The 
DAme  of  the  son,  as  well  as  that  of  the  father, 


250  Cleopatra.  [B.C.41 

Aatooy't  mm.  The  garrnloiu  guMi 

was  Antony.  He  was  old  enough  to  feel  some 
sense  of  shame  at  his  father's  dereliction  from 
duty,  and  to  manifest  some  respectful  regard 
for  the  rights  and  the  honor  of  his  mother.  In- 
stead of  this,  however,  he  imitated  his  father's 
example,  and,  in  his  own  way,  was  as  reckless 
and  as  extravagant  as  he.  The  same  Philotas 
who  is  above  referred  to  was,  after  a  time,  ap- 
pointed to  some  office  or  other  in  the  young 
Ante  ^y's  household,  so  that  he  was  accustomed 
to  sit  at  his  table  and  share  in  his  convivial  en- 
joyments. He  relates  that  once,  while  they 
were  feasting  together,  there  was  a  guest  pres- 
ent, a  physician,  who  was  a  very  vain  and  con- 
oeited  man,  and  so  talkative  that  no  one  elso 
had  any  oppprtunity  to  speak.  All  the  pleas- 
ure of  conversation  was  spoiled  by  his  excessive 
garrulity.  Philotsw,  however,  at  length  puz- 
zled him  so  completely  with  a  question  of  logic 
-—of  a  kind  similar  tx)  those  often  discussed  with 
great  interest  in  ancient  days — as  to  silence  aim 
for  a  time;  and  young  Antony  was  so  rauch 
delighted  with  this  feat,  that  he  gave  Philotas 
all  the  gold  and  silver  plate  that  there  was  upon 
the  table,  and  sent  all  the  articles  home  to  blm, 
after  the  entertainment  was  over,  telling  him  to 
put  his  mark  and  stamp  upon  them,  and  look 
*hem  up. 


B.C.41.]  Cleopatra  and  Antony.      251 

The  pvxxis.  The  gold  and  inTer  pkte  retttm»d. 

The  question  with  which  Philotaa  puzzled 
the  self-conceited  physician  was  this.  It  must 
be  premised,  however,  that  in  those  days  it  was 
considered  that  cold  water  in  an  intermittent 
fever  was  extremely  dangerous,  except  in  some 
peculiar  oases,  and  in  those  the  effect  was  good. 
Philotas  then  argued  as  follows :  "  In  cases  of 
a  certain  kind  it  is  best  to  give  water  to  a  pa 
tient  in  an  ague.  All  cases  of  ague  are  cases 
of  a  certain  kind.  Therefore  it  is  best  in  all 
eases  to  give  the  patient  water."  Philotas  hav- 
ing propounded  his  argument  in  this  way,  chal- 
lenged the  physician  to  point  out  the  fallacy  of 
it;  and  while  the  physician  sat  perplexed  and 
puzzled  in  his  attempts  to  unravel  the  intricacy 
of  it,  the  company  enjoyed  a  temporary  respite 
from  his  excessive  loquacity. 

Philotas  adds,  in  his  account  of  this  affair, 
that  he  sent  the  gold  and  silver  plate  back  to 
young  Antony  again,  being  afraid  to  keep  them 
Antony  said  that  perhaps  it  was  as  well  that 
this  should  be  done,  since  many  of  the  vessels 
were  of  great  value  on  account  of  their  rare  and 
antique  workmanship,  and  his  father  might  pos- 
sibly miss  them  and  wish  to  know  what  had 
become  of  them. 

As  there  were  no  limits,  on  the  one  hand,  tc 


252  Cleopatra.  [B.C.41 

Dabaafaig  pleunrM.  Antony  and  Clecpatn  In  diagala* 

the  loftiness  and  grandeur  of  the  pleasures  to 
which  Antony  and  Cleopatra  addicted  them- 
selves, so  there  were  none  to  the  low  and  de- 
basing tendencies  which  characterized  them  on 
the  other.  Sometimes,  at  midnight,  after  hav- 
ing  been  spending-  many  hours  in  mirth  and 
revelry  in  the  palace,  Antony  would  disguise 
himself  in  the  dress  of  a  slave,  and  sally  forth 
inl»  the  streets,  excited  with  wine,  in  search  of 
adventures.  In  many  cases,  Cleopatra  herself, 
similarly  disguised,  would  go  out  with  him.  On 
these  excursions  Antony  would  take  pleasure  in 
involving  himself  in  all  sorts  of  difficulties  and 
dangers — in  street  riots,  drunken  brawls,  and 
desperate  quarrels  with  the  populace — all  for 
Cleopatra's  amusement  and  his  own.  Stories 
of  these  adventures  would  circulate  afterward 
among  the  people,  some  of  whom  would  admire 
the  free  and  jovial  character  of  their  eccentric 
visitor,  and  others  would  despise  him  as  a  prince 
degrading  himself  to  the  level  of  a  brute. 

Some  of  the  amusements  and  pleasures  which 
Antony  and  Cleopatra  pursued  were  innocent 
in  themselves,  though  wholly  unworthy  to  be 
made  the  serious  business  of  life  by  personages 
en  whom  such  exalted  duties  rightfully  devolv- 
ed.    They  made  various  excursions  uocn  th** 


B.C.41.]  Cleopatra  and  Antomy.      253 

n*hixi(  exourtlona.  Stratagem*. 

Nile,  and  arranged  parties  of  pleasure  to  go  out 
on  the  water  in  the  harbor,  and  to  various  rural 
retreats  in  the  environs  of  the  city.  Once  they 
went  out  on  a  fishing-party,  in  boats,  in  the 
port.  Antony  was  unsuccessful;  and  feeling 
chagrined  that  Cleopatra  should  witness  his  ill 
luck,  he  made  a  secret  arrangement  with  some 
of  the  fishermen  to  dive  down,  where  they  could 
do  so  unobserved,  and  fasten  fishes  to  his  hook 
under  the  water.  By  this  plan  he  caught  very 
large  and  fine  fish  very  fast.  Cleopatra,  how- 
ever, was  too  wary  to  be  easily  deceived  by  such 
a  stratagem  as  this.  She  observed  the  maneu- 
ver, but  pretended  not  to  observe  it ;  she  ex- 
pressed, on  the  other  hand,  the  greatest  sur- 
prise and  delight  at  Antony's  good  luck,  and 
the  extraordinary  skill  which  it  indicated. 

The  next  day  she  wished  to  go  a  fishing 
again,  and  a  party  was  accordingly  made  as  on 
the  day  before.  She  had,  however,  secretly  m- 
struoted  another  fisherman  to  procure  a  dried 
and  salted  fish  from  the  market,  and,  watching 
his  opportunity,  to  get  down  into  the  water  un- 
der the  boats  and  attach  it  to  the  hook,  before 
Antony's  divers  could  get  there.  This  plan 
succeeded,  and  Antony,  in  the  midst  of  a  large 
«nd  gay  party  that  were  looking  on,  palled  ant 


254  Cleopatra.  (B.C.  41 

FtdTla*!  plana  for  oompeUin|  Antony  to  retnra. 

an  excellent  fish,  cured  and  dried,  such  as  waf 
Known  to  eve-y  one  as  an  imported  article, 
bought  in  the  market.  It  was  a  iKsh  of  a  kind 
that  was  brought  originally  from  Asia  Minor. 
The  boats,  and  the  water  all  around  them,  re- 
sounded with  the  shouts  of  merriment  and 
laughter  which  this  incident  occasioned. 

In  the  mean  time,  while  Antony  was  thus 
spending  his  time  in  low  and  ignoble  pursuits 
and  in  guilty  pleasures  at  Alexandria,  his  wife 
Fulvia,  after  exhausting  all  other  means  of  in 
ducing  her  husband  to  return  to  her,  became 
desperate,  and  took  measures  for  fomenting  an 
open  war,  which  she  thought  would  compel  him 
to  return.  The  extraordinary  energy,  influ- 
ence, and  talent  which  Fulvia  possessed,  ena- 
bled her  to  do  this  in  an  effectual  manner 
She  organized  an  army,  formed  a  camp,  placed 
herself  at  the  head  of  the  troops,  and  sent  such 
tidings  to  Antony  of  the  dangers  which  threat- 
ened his  cause  as  greatly  alarmed  him.  At  the 
same  time  news  came  of  great  disasters  in  Asia 
Minor,  and  of  alarming  insurrections  among 
the  provinces  which  had  been  committed  to  hi» 
charge  there.  Antony  saw  that  he  must  arouse 
himself  from  the  spell  which  had  enohantej 


B.C. 41. j  Cleopatra  and  Antony       256 

Departore  of  Antony.  Chagrin  of  Cleopatra 

him  and  break  away  from  Cleopatra,  or  that  he 
would  be  wholly  and  irretrievably  ruined.  He 
made,  accordingly,  a  desperate  effort  to  get  free. 
He  bade  the  queen  farewell,  embarked  hastily 
in  a  fleet  of  galleys,  and  sailed  away  to  Tyre, 
leaving  Cleopatra  in  her  palace,  vexed,  disap- 
pointed, and  chagrined. 


256  Cleopatra  [B.C  31 

rMrpIazttr  or  ABtany.  Hla  wwrtlin  with  TmMk 


Chapter   XT 
The   Battle   op   Actium. 

CLEOPATRA',  in  parting  with  Antony  as 
described  in  the  last  chapter,  lost  him  foi 
two  or  three  years.  During  this  time  Antony 
himself  was  involved  in  a  great  variety  of  diffi- 
onlties  and  dangers,  and  passed  through  many 
eventful  scenes,  which,  however,  can  not  here 
be  described  in  detail.  His  life,  during  this 
period,  was  full  of  vicissitude  and  excitement, 
and  was  spent  probably  in  alternations  of  re- 
morse for  the  past  and  anxiety  for  the  future. 
On  landing  at  Tyre,  he  was  at  first  extremelj 
perplexed  whether  to  go  to  Asia  Minor  or  to 
Rome.  His  presence  was  imperiously  demand- 
ed in  both  places.  The  war  which  Fulvia  had 
fomented  was  caused,  in  part,  by  the  rivalry 
of  Octavius,  and  the  collision  of  his  interesta 
with  those  of  her  husband.  Antony  was  very 
angry  with  her  for  having  managed  his  affairs 
in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  about  a  war.  After 
a  time  Antony  and  Fulvia  met  at  Athens.  Fui- 
na  had  retreated  to  that  city,  and  was  ver\ 


B.C. 31.]  The  Battlb  of  Actium.       257 

Ibeting  of  Antony  md  FoItU.    Reconciliation  of  Antony  and  OetaylB* 

seriously  sick  there,  either  from  bodily  disease, 
or  from  the  influence  of  long-continued  anxiety, 
vexation,  and  distress.  They  had  a  stormy 
meeting.  Neither  party  was  disposed  to  exei' 
else  any  mercy  toward  the  other.  Antony  left 
his  wife  rudely  and  roughly,  after  loading  her 
with  reproaches.  A  short  time  afterward,  she 
sank  down  in  sorrow  to  the  grave. 

The  death  of  Fulvia  was  an  event  which 
proved  to  be  of  advantage  to  Antony.  It  opened 
the  way  to  a  reconciliation  between  him  and 
Ootavius.  Fulvia  had  been  extremely  active 
in  opposing  Octavius's  designs,  and  in  organi- 
zing plans  for  resisting  him.  He  felt,  therefore, 
a  special  hostility  against  her,  and,  through  her, 
against  Antony.  Now,  however,  that  she  waa 
dead,  the  way  seemed  to  be  in  some  sense  open- 
ed for  a  reconciliation. 

Ootavius  had  a  sister,  Octavia,  who  had  been 
the  wife  of  a  Roman  general  named  MarceUus. 
She  was  a  very  beautiful  and  a  very  aooom- 
plishea  woman,  and  of  a  spirit  very  different 
from  that  of  Fulvia.  She  was  gentle,  affeo* 
tionate,  and  kind,  a  lover  of  peace  and  harmony, 
and  not  at  all  disposed,  like  Fulvia,  to  assort 
and  maintain  her  influence  over  others  by  an 

•verbearing  and  violent  demeanor.     Octavia't 

16—1/ 


258  Cleopatra.  [B.C.31. 

Oetavta  fi«r  marriage  to  Antoa/ 

husband  died  about  this  time,  and,  in  the  coursa 
of  the  movements  and  negotiations  between  An- 
tony  and  Octavius,  the  plan  was  proposed  of  a 
marriage  between  Antony  and  Ootavia,  which, 
it  was  thought,  would  ratify  and  confirm  the 
reconciliation.  This  proposal  was  finally  agreed 
upon.  Antony  was  glad  to  find  so  easy  a  mode 
of  settling  his  difficulties.  The  people  of  Rome, 
too,  and  the  authorities  there,  knowing  that  the 
peace  of  the  world  depended  upon  the  terms  on 
which  these  two  men  stood  with  regard  to  each 
other,  were  extremely  desirous  that  this  m- 
rangement  should  be  carried  into  effect.  There 
was  a  law  of  the  commonwealth  forbidding  the 
marriage  of  a  widow  within  a  specified  period 
after  the  death  of  her  husband.  That  peritd 
had  not,  in  Octavia's  case,  yet  expired.  There 
was,  however,  so  strong  a  desire  that  no  ob- 
stacle should  be  allowed  to  prevent  this  proposed 
union,  or  even  to  occasion  delay,  that  the  law 
was  altered  expressly  for  this  case,  and  Antony 
and  Ootavia  were  married.  The  empire  was 
divided  between  Octavius  and  Antony,  Octa- 
vius receiving  the  western  portion  as  his  share, 
while  the  eastern  was  assigned  to  Antony. 

It  is  not  probable  that  Antony  folt  any  very 
strong  affection  for  his  new  wife,  beautiful  and 


B.C.  31.]  The  Battle  op  Actium.       259 

Octaria't  inflnence  orer  her  hniband  and  her  brother 

gentle  as  she  was.  A  man,  in  fact,  who  had 
Ifcd  such  a  hfe  as  his  had  been,  must  have  be 
come  by  this  time  incapable  of  any  strong  and 
pure  attachment.  He,  however,  was  pleased 
with  the  novelty  of  his  acquisition,  and  seemed 
to  forget  for  a  time  the  loss,  of  Cleopatra.  He 
remained  with  Octavia  a  year.  After  that  he 
went  away  on  certain  military  enterprises  which 
kept  him  some  time  from  her.  He  returned 
again,  and  again  he  went  away.  All  this  time 
Octavia's  influence  over  him  and  over  her 
brother  was  of  the  most  salutary  ana  excel- 
lent character.  She  soot'-ed  their  animosities, 
quieted  their  suspicions  and  jealousies,  and  at 
one  time,  when  they  were  on  the  brink  of  open 
war,  she  effected  a  reconciliation  between  them 
by  the  most  courageous  and  energetic,  and  at 
the  same  time,  gentle  and  unassuming  efforts. 
At  the  time  of  this  danger  she  was  with  her 
husband  in  Greece ;  but  she  persuaded  him  to 
send  her  to  her  brother  at  Rome,  saying  that 
she  was  confident  that  she  could  arrange  a  set- 
tlement of  the  difficulties  impending.  Antony 
allowed  her  to  go  She  proceeded  to  Rome,  and 
procured  an  interview  with  hrt  brother  in  th« 
preeenoe  of  his  two  principal  officers  of  statOb 
Here   she  pleaded  her  husband's  eanse  with 


260  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  31 

OeUvia  pleada  for  Anteoy  DUBovItiM  MttM 

tears  in  her  eyes ;  she  defended  his  conduct,  ex- 
plaine>i  what  seemed  to  be  against  him,  and  en- 
treated her  brother  not  to  take  such  a  course 
as  should  oast  her  down  from  being  the  hap- 
piest of  women  to  being  the  most  miserable. 
"Consider  the  circusmtances  of  my  case,"  said 
she.  "  The  eyes  of  the  world  are  upon  me.  Of 
the  two  most  powerful  men  in  the  world,  I  am 
the  wife  of  one  and  the  sister  of  another.  If 
you  allow  rash  counsels  to  go  on  and  war  tc 
ensue,  I  am  hopelessly  ruined ;  for,  whichever  is 
conquered,  my  husband  or  my  brother,  mv  own 
happiness  will  be  for  ever  gone." 

Octavius  sincerely  loved  his  sister,  and  he 
was  so  far  softened  by  her  entreaties  that  he 
consented  to  appoint  an  interview  with  Antony 
in  order  to  see  if  their  difTiculties  could  be  set- 
tled. This  interview  was  accordingly  held. 
The  two  generals  came  to  a  river,  where,  at  the 
opposite  banks,  each  embarked  in  a  boat,  and, 
being  rowed  out  toward  each  other,  they  met  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream.  A  conference  ensued, 
at  which  all  the  questions  at  issue  were,  for  a 
time  at  least,  very  happily  arranged. 

Antony,  however,  after  a  time,  began  to  be- 
oome  tired  of  his  wife,  and  to  sigh  for  Cleopatra 
ouoe  more.     He  left  Octavia  at  Rome  and  pro- 


B.C. 31.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.       261 

Antony  tired  of  hi*  wife.  He  goes  to  Egypt 

Deeded  to  the  eastward,  under  pretense  of  at 
tending  to  the  affairs  of  that  portion  of  the  em- 
pire ;  bul;,  instead  of  doing  this,  he  went  to  Al- 
exandria, and  there  renewed  again  his  former 
intimacy  with  the  Egyptian  queen. 

Octavius  was  very  indignant  at  this.  His 
former  hostility  to  Antony,  which  had  been  in 
a  measure  appeased  by  the  kind  influence  of 
Octavia,  now  broke  forth  anew,  and  was  height- 
ened by  the  feeling  of  resentment  naturally 
awakened  by  his  sister's  wrongs.  Public  sen- 
timent in  Rome,  too,  was  setting  very  strong- 
ly against  Antony.  Lampoons  were  written 
against  him  to  ridicule  him  and  Cleopatra,  and 
the  most  decided  censures  were  passed  upon  his 
conduct.  Octavia  was  universally  beloved,  and 
the  sympathy  whiih  was  every  where  felt  for 
her  increased  and  heightened  very  much  the 
popular  indignation  which  was  felt  against  th*' 
man  who  could  wrong  so  deeply  such  sweetness, 
and  gentleness,  and  affectionate  fidelity  as  hers. 

After  remaining  for  some  time  in  Alexandria, 
and  renewing  his  connection  and  intimacy  with 
Cleopatra,  Antony  went  away  again,  crossing 
the  sea  into  Asia,  with  the  intention  of  pros- 
ecuting certain  military  undertakings  there 
whioh    impel iously    demanded    his    attention 


262  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  31 

intony  ■(•ia  wMt  Cleopatn.  Effect  on  hU  ehanelw 

His  plan  was  to  return  as  soon  as  possible  tfl 
Egypt  after  the  object  of  his  expedition  should 
oe  accomplished.  He  found,  however,  that  he 
ODuld  not  bear  even  a  temporary  absence  from 
Cleopatra.  His  mind  dwelled  so  much  upon 
her,  and  upon  the  -pleasures  which  he  had  en- 
joyed with  her  in  Egypt,  and  he  longed  so 
much  to  see  her  again,  that  he  was  wholly  un- 
fit for  the  discharge  of  his  duties  in  the  camp. 
He  became  timid,  inefficient,  and  remiss,  and 
almost  every  thing  that  he  undertook  ended 
disastrously.  The  army,  who  understood  per- 
fectly well  the  reason  of  their  commander's  r^ 
missness  and  consequent  ill  fortune,  were  ex- 
tremely indignant  at  his  conduct,  and  the  camp 
was  filled  with  suppressed  murmurs  and  com- 
plaints. Antony,  however,  like  other  persona 
in  his  situation,  was  blind  to  all  these  indica- 
tions of  dissatisfaction ;  probably  he  would  have 
disregarded  them  if  he  had  observed  them.  At 
length,  finding  that  he  could  bear  his  absenoo 
from  his  mistress  no  longer,  he  set  out  to  march 
across  the  country,  in  the  depth  of  the  winter, 
to  the  sea-shore,  to  a  point  where  he  had  sent 
for  Cleopatra  to  come  to  join  him.  The  army 
endured  incredible  hardships  and  exposures  in 
this   march.     When  Antony  had  once  oo«n 


B.C.31.J  The  Battle  op  Actium.       263 

TIm  march  to  Sldon.  Suffering  of  the  troop*. 

menoed  the  journey,  he  was  so  impatient  to  get 
forward  that  he  compelled  his  troops  to  advance 
mth  a  rapidity  greater  than  their  strength 
would  bear.  They  were,  besides,  not  provided 
with!  proper  tents  or  with  proper  supplies  of  pro- 
vision. They  were  often  obliged,  therefore,  aft- 
er a  long  and  fatiguing  march  during  the  day, 
to  bivouac  at  night  in  the  open  air  among  the 
mountains,  with  scanty  means  of  appeasing 
their  hunger,  and  very  little  shelter  from  the 
cold  rain,  or  from  the  storms  of  driving  snow 
Eight  thousand  men  died  on  this  march,  from 
cold,  fatigue,  and  exposure ;  a  greater  sacrifice, 
perhaps,  than  had  ever  been  made  before  to  the 
mere  ardor  and  impatience  of  a  lover. 

When  Antony  reached  the  shore,  he  advanced 
to  a  certain  sea-port,  near  Sidon,  where  Cleopa- 
tra was  to  land.  At  the  time  of  his  arrival  but 
a  small  part  of  his  army  was  left,  and  the  few 
men  that  survived  were  in  a  miserably  desti- 
tute condition.  Antony's  eagerness  to  see  Cle- 
opatra became  more  and  more  excited  as  the 
time  drew  nigh.  She  did  not  come  so  soon  as 
he  had  expected,  and  during  the  delay  he  seem- 
ed to  pine  away  under  the  influence  of  love  and 
sorrow.  He  was  silent,  absent-minded,  and 
«ad     He  had  lo  thoughts  for  any  thing  but  the 


264  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  81 

Airiral  of  Cleopatra.  8h«  bring*  suppUe*  for  the  uny 

ooming  of  Cleopatra,  and  felt  no  interest  in  any 
other  plans.  He  watched  for  her  incessantly, 
and  would  sometimes  leave  his  place  at  the  ta- 
ble, in  the  midst  of  the  supper,  and  go  down 
alone  to  the  shore,  where  he  would  stand  gaz- 
ing out  upon  the  sea,  and  saying  mournfully  to 
himself,  "  Why  does  not  she  come  ?"  The  ani- 
mosity and  the  ridicule  which  these  things 
awakened  against  him,  on  the  part  of  the  army, 
were  extreme ;  but  he  was  so  utterly  infatuated 
that  he  disregarded  all  the  manifestations  of 
public  sentiment  around  him,  and  continued  to 
allow  his  mind  to  be  wholly  engrossed  with  the 
single  idea  of  Cleopatra's  coming. 

She  arrived  at  last.  She  brought  a  great 
supply  of  clothes  and  other  necessaries  for  the 
use  of  Antony's  army,  so  that  her  coming  not 
snly  gratified  his  love,  but  afforded  him,  also,  a 
very  essential  relief,  in  respect  to  the  military 
difficulties  in  which  he  was  involved. 

After  some  time  spent  in  the  enjoyment  ot 
the  pleasure  which  being  thus  reunited  to  Cl^ 
opatra  afforded  him,  Antony  began  again  to 
think  of  the  affairs  of  his  government,  which 
every  month  more  and  more  imperiously  de- 
manded his  attention.  He  began  to  receive  ur- 
gent calls  from  various  quarters,  urging  hin  tc 


B.C.  31.1  The  Batile  of  Aciium.       265 


Octavla  intercedea  for  Antony.  She  bringi  him  re-enforcementk 


aotion.  In  the  mean  time,  Octavia — who  had 
been  all  this  while  waiting  in  distress  and  anx- 
iety at  Rome,  hearing  continually  the  mosi 
gloomy  accounts  of  her  husband's  affairs,  and 
the  most  humiliating  tidings  in  respect  to  his 
infatuated  devotion  to  Cleopatra — resolved  to 
make  one  more  effort  to  save  him.  She  inter- 
ceded with  her  brother  to  allow  her  to  raise 
troops  and  to  collect  supplies,  and  then  proceed 
to  the  eastward  to  re-enforce  him.  Octavius 
consented  to  this.  He,  in  fact,  assisted  Octavia 
in  making  her  preparations.  It  is  said,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  influenced  in  this  plan  by  his 
confident  belief  that  this  noble  attempt  of  his 
sister  to  reclaim  her  husband  would  fail,  and 
that,  by  the  failure  of  it,  Antony  would  be  put 
in  the  wrong,  in  the  estimation  of  the  Roman 
people,  more  absolutely  and  hopelessly  than 
over,  and  that  the  way  would  thus  be  prepared 
for  his  complete  and  final  destruction. 

Octavia  was  rejoiced  to  obtain  her  brother'i 
aid  to  her  undertaking,  whatever  the  motive 
might  be  which  induced  him  to  afford  it.  She 
accordingly  levied  a  considerable  body  of  troops, 
raised  a  large  sum  of  money,  provided  clothes, 
and  tents,  and  military  stores  for  the  army ;  and 
when  all  was  rearly,  she  left  Italy  and  put  tc 


266  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  31 

CSI*«p«tn'i  alana.  Bar  »rli 

sea,  having  previously  dispatched  a  messenger 
to  her  husband  to  inform  him  that  she  waa 
coming. 

Cleopatra  began  now  to  be  afraid  that  she 
was  to  lose  Antony  again,  and  she  at  once  be- 
gan to  resort  to  the  usual  artifices  employed  in 
such  oases,  in  order  to  retain  her  power  over 
him.  She  said  nothing,  out  assumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  one  pining  under  the  influence  of 
•ome  secret  suffering  or  sorrow.  She  contrived 
to  be  often  surprised  in  tears.  In  such  cases 
she  would  hastily  brush  her  tears  away,  and  as- 
sume a  countenance  of  smiles  and  good  humor, 
as  if  making  every  effort  to  be  happy,  though 
really  oppressed  with  a  heavy  burden  of  anxiety 
and  grief.  When  Antony  was  near  her  she 
would  seem  overjoyed  at  his  presence,  and  gaze 
upon  him  with  an  expression  of  the  most  de- 
voted fondness.  When  absent  from  him,  she 
spent  her  time  alone,  always  silent  and  deject- 
ed, and  often  in  tears ;  and  she  took  care  that 
the  secret  sorrows  and  sufferings  that  she  en- 
dured should  be  duly  made  known  to  Antony, 
and  that  he  should  understand  that  they  were 
ail  occasioned  by  her  love  for  him,  and  by  the 
danger  which  she  apprehended  that  he  waa 
•bont  to  leave  her. 


B.C. 31.]  The  Battle  of  Activm.      267 

Cleopatn't  Morat  agenta.  Their  rapraMnUtloii*  to  Antony 

The  friends  and  secret  agents  of  Cleopatra, 
who  reported  these  things  to  Antony,  made, 
moreover,  direct  representations  to  him,  for  the 
purpose  of  incHning  his  mind  in  her  favor.  They 
had,  in  fact,  the  astonishing  audacity  to  argue 
that  Cleopatra's  claims  upon  Antony  for  a  con- 
tinuance of  his  love  were  paramount  to  those 
of  Octavia.  She,  that  is,  Octavia,  had  been  his 
wife,  they  said,  only  for  a  very  short  time.  Cle- 
opatra had  been  most  devotedly  attached  to  him 
for  many  years.  Octavia  was  married  to  him, 
they  alleged,  not  under  the  impulse  of  love,  but 
from  political  considerations  alone,  to  please 
her  brother,  and  to  ratify  and  confirm  a  politi- 
cal league  made  with  him.  Cleopatra,  on  the 
other  hand,  had  given  herself  up  to  him  in  the 
most  absolute  and  unconditional  manner,  under 
the  influence  solely  of  a  personal  affection  which 
«he  could  not  control.  She  had  surrendered 
and  sacrificed  every  thing  to  him.  For  him  she 
had  lost  her  good  name,  alienated  the  atfectioiiB 
of  her  subjects,  made  herself  the  object  of  re- 
proach and  censure  to  all  mankind,  and  now 
she  had  left  her  native  land  to  come  and  join 
him  in  his  adverse  fortunes.  Considering  how 
much  she  had  done,  and  suffered,  and  sacrificed 
(or  his  sake,  it  w^uld  be  extreme  and  unjusti 


268  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  31. 

Cleopatra't  raooets.  Antony' •  owMage  to  Octarla. 

fiable  cruelty  in  him  to  forsake  her  now.  She 
never  would  survive  such  an  abandonment. 
Her  whole  soul  was  so  wrapped  up  in  him,  that 
she  would  pine  away  and  die  if  he  were  now  to 
forsake  her. 

Antony  was  distressed  and  agitated  beyond 
measure  by  the  entanglements  in  which  he 
found  that  he  was  involved.  His  duty,  his  in- 
clination perhaps,  certainly  his  ambition,  and 
every  dictate  of  prudence  and  policy,  required 
that  he  should  break  away  from  these  snares  at 
once  and  go  to  meet  Octavia.  But  the  spell 
that  bound  him  was  too  mighty  to  be  dissolved. 
He  yielded  to  Cleopatra's  sorrows  and  tears 
He  dispatched  a  messenger  to  Octavia,  who  had 
by  this  time  reached  Athens,  in  Greece,  direct- 
ing her  not  to  come  any  farther,  Octavia,  who 
seemed  incapable  of  resentment  or  anger  against 
her  husband,  sent  back  to  ask  what  she  should 
do  with  the  troops,  and  money,  and  the  military 
stores  which  she  was  bringing.  Antony  direct- 
ed her  to  leave  them  in  Greece.  Octavia  did 
80,  and  mournfully  returned  to  her  home. 

As  soon  as  she  arrived  at  Rome,  Octavius, 
her  brother,  whose  indignation  was  now  thor- 
oughly aroused  at  the  baseness  of  Antony,  sent 
to  hi«  sister  to  say  that  she  must  leave  Antony's 


B.C.31.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.      269 


Derottan  of  Oetaria.  Indlpuitlon  against  Antoay 

house  and  come  to  him.  A  proper  self-respect, 
he  said,  forbade  her  remaining  any  longer  under 
the  roof  of  such  a  man.  Octavia  replied  that 
she  would  not  leave  her  husband's  house.  That 
house  was  her  post  of  duty,  whatever  her  hus- 
band might  d),  and  there  she  would  remain. 
She  accordingly  retired  within  the  precincts  of 
her  old  home,  and  devoted  herself  in  patient  and 
uncomplaining  sorrow  to  the  care  of  the  family 
and  the  children.  Among  these  children  was 
one  young  son  of  Antony's,  born  during  his 
marriage  with  her  predecessor  Fulvia.  In  the 
mean  time,  while  Octavia  was  thus  faithfully 
though  mournfully  fulfilling  her  duties  as  wife 
and  mother,  in  her  husband's  house  at  Rome, 
Antony  himself  had  gone  with  Cleopatra  to 
Alexandria,  and  was  abandoning  himself  once 
more  to  a  life  of  guilty  pleasure  there.  The 
greatness  of  mind  which  this  beautiful  and  de- 
voted wife  thus  displayed,  attracted  the  admi- 
ration of  all  mankind.  It  produced,  however, 
ne  othei  effect,  which  Octavia  must  have  great- 
j  deprecated.  It  aroused  a  strong  and  univer- 
sal  feeling  of  indignation  against  the  unworthy 
object  toward  whom  this  extraordinary  magna- 
nimity was  displayed. 

In  the  mean  time,  Antony  gave  himself  up 


270  Cleopatra.  (B.C.  31 

lleMiirM  of  Antonj.  Accuaation*  tgalnst  hln 

wholly  to  Cleopatra's  influence  and  control,  and 
managed  all  the  affairs  of  the  Roman  empira 
in  the  East  in  the  way  best  fitted  to  promote 
her  aggrandizement  and  honor.  He  made  Alex 
andria  his  capital,  celebrated  triumphs  there, 
arranged  ostentatious  expeditions  into  Asia  and 
Syria  with  Cleopatra  and  her  train,  gave  her 
whole  provinces  as  presents,  and  exalted  her 
two  sons,  Alexander  and  Ptolemy,  children  bom 
during  the  period  of  his  first  acquaintance  with 
her,  to  positions  of  the  highest  rank  and  station, 
as  his  own  acknowledged  sons.  The  oonse- 
qnences  of  these  and  similar  measures  at  Rome 
were  fatal  to  Antony's  character  and  standing. 
Ootavius  reported  every  thing  to  the  Roman 
senate  and  people,  and  made  Antony's  misgov- 
ernment  and  his  various  misdemeanors  the 
ground  of  the  heaviest  accusations  against  him. 
Antony,  hearing  of  these  things,  sent  his  agents 
to  Rome  and  made  accusations  against  Octa- 
vius ;  but  these  counter  accusations  were  of  no 
avail  Public  sentiment  was  very  strong  and 
decided  against  him  at  the  capital,  and  Octa- 
▼ius  began  to  preoare  for  war. 

Antony  percei\ed  that  he  must  prepare  to 
defend  himself.  Cleopatra  entered  into  tha 
planr  which  he  formed  for  this  purpose  with 


B.C. 31.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.      271 

Antony's  preparation*.  AMilitance  of  Cl6opatr% 

great  ardor.  Antony  began  to  levy  troops,  and 
collect  and  equip  galleys  and  ships  of  war,  and 
to  make  requisitions  of  money  and  military 
stores  from  all  the  eastern  provinces  and  king* 
doms.  Cleopatra  put  all  the  resources  of  Egypt 
at  his  disposal.  She  furnished  him  with  im 
mense  sums  of  money,  and  with  an  inexhaust- 
ible supply  of  corn,  which  she  procured  for  this 
purpose  from  her  dominions  in  the  valley  o^  the 
Nile.  The  various  divisions  of  the  immense  ar- 
mament which  was  thus  provided  for  were  or- 
dered to  rendezvous  at  Ephesus,  where  Antony 
and  Cleopatra  were  awaiting  to  receive  them, 
having  proceeded  there  when  their  arrange- 
ments in  Egypt  were  completed,  and  they  were 
ready  to  commence  the  campaign. 

When  all  was  ready  for  the  expedition  to  set 
sail  from  Ephesus,  it  was  Antony's  judgment 
that  it  would  be  best  for  Cleopatra  to  return  to 
Egypt,  and  leave  him  to  go  forth  with  the  fleet 
to  meet  Octavius  alone.  Cleopatra  was,  how- 
ever, determined  not  to  go  away.  She  did  not 
dare  to  leave  Antony  at  all  to  himself,  for  few 
that  in  some  way  or  other  a  peace  would  be 
effected  between  himself  and  Octavius,  whiob 
would  result  in  his  returning  to  Octavia  and 
abandoning  her.     She  accordingly  contrived  U 


272  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  31 

0«nldtaa  bribed.  Hto  adiiee  in  ragwd  to  Ctoupalim 

persuade  Antony  to  retain  her  with  him,  by 
brilMng  his  chief  counselor  to  advise  him  to  do 
80.  His  counselor's  name  was  Canidius.  Ca- 
aidins,  having  received  Cleopatra's  money, 
while  yet  he  pretended  to  be  wholly  disinter- 
ested in  his  advice,  represented  to  Antony  that 
it  would  not  be  reasonable  to  send  Cleopatra 
away,  and  deprive  her  of  all  participation  in  the 
glory  of  the  war,  when  she  was  defraying  so 
large  a  part  of  the  expense  of  it.  Besides,  a 
large  portion  of  the  army  consisted  of  Egyptian 
troops,  who  would  feel  discouraged  and  disheart- 
ened if  Cleopatra  were  to  leave  them,  and  would 
probably  act  far  less  efficiently  in  the  conflict 
than  they  would  do  if  animated  by  the  presence 
of  their  queen.  Then,  moreover,  such  a  woman 
«8  Cleopatra  was  not  to  be  considered,  as  many 
women  would  be,  an  embarrassment  and  a 
source  of  care  to  a  military  expedition  which 
she  might  join,  but  a  very  efficient  counselor 
and  aid  to  it.  She  was,  he  said,  a  very  saga- 
cious, energetic,  and  powerful  queen,  accus. 
tomed  to  the  command  of  armies  and  to  the 
management  of  affairs  of  state,  and  her  aid  in 
the  conduct  of  the  expedition  might  be  expected 
to  oondnoe  very  materially  to  its  success. 
Antony  was  ea.si]y  won  by  such  persuasion* 


B.C.31.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.      273 

The  fleet  at  Samoa.  Antony'a  Infatnatloa, 

as  these,  and  it  was  at  length  decided  that  Cle- 
opatra should  accompany  him. 

Antony  then  ordered  the  fleet  to  move  for- 
ward to  the  island  of  Samos.*  Here  it  was 
brought  to  anchor  and  remained  for  some  time, 
waiting  for  the  coming  in  of  new  re-enforce- 
ments, and  for  the  completion  of  the  other  ar- 
rangements. Antony,  as  if  becoming  more  and 
more  infatuated  as  he  approached  the  brink  of 
his  ruin,  spent  his  time  while  the  expedition 
remained  at  Samos,  not  in  maturing  his  plans 
and  perfecting  his  arrangements  for  the  tremen- 
dous conflict  which  was  approaching,  but  in  fes- 
tivities, games,  revelings,  and  every  species  of 
riot  and  dissolute  excess.  This,  however,  is  not 
surprising.  Men  almost  always,  when  in  a  sit- 
uation analogous  to  his,  fly  to  similar  means  of 
protecting  themselves,  in  some  small  degree, 
from  the  pangs  of  remorse,  and  from  the  fore- 
bodings which  stand  ready  to  terrify  and  tor- 
ment them  at  every  instant  in  which  these 
gloomy  specters  are  not  driven  away  by  intoxi- 
cation and  revelry.  At  least  Antony  found  it 
80.  Accordingly,  an  immense  company  of  play- 
ers, tumblers,  fools,  jesters,  and  mountebank* 
were  ordered  to  assemble  at  Samos,  and  to  de- 

*  8ee  map  for  the  rtuation  of  Ephesas  and  of  Bamoa 
16—18 


274  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  31 

lUot  and  rarelry.  Antony  and  Cleopatra  at  Athena 

vote  themselves  with  all  zeal  to  the  amusement 
of  Antony's  court.  The  island  was  one  uni- 
versal  scene  of  riot  and  revelry.  People  were 
eistonisned  at  such  celebrations  and  displays, 
wholly  unsuitable,  as  they  considered  them,  to 
the  occasion.  If  such  are  the  rejoicings,  said 
they,  which  Antony  celebrates  before  going  into 
the  battle,  what  festivities  will  he  contrive  on 
his  return,  joyous  enough  to  express  his  pleas* 
ure  if  he  shall  gain  the  victory  ? 

After  a  time,  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  with  a 
magnificent  train  of  attendants,  left  Samos, 
and,  passing  across  the  ^gean  Sea,  landed  in 
Greece,  and  advanced  to  Athens;  while  the 
fleet,  proceeding  westward  from  Samos,  passed 
around  Tsenarus,  the  southern  promontory  of 
Greece,  and  then  moved  northward  along  the 
western  coast  of  the  peninsula.  Cleopatra  wish- 
ed to  go  to  Athens  for  a  special  reason.  It  was 
there  that  Octavia  had  stopped  on  her  journey 
toward  her  husband  with  re-enforcements  and 
aid;  and  while  she  was  there,  the  people  of 
Athens,  pitying  her  sad  condition,  and  admir. 
ing  the  noble  spirit  of  mind  which  she  displayed 
in  her  misfortunes,  had  paid  her  great  attention, 
and  during  her  stay  among  them  had  bestowed 
apon  her  many  honors.    Cleopatra  now  wished 


B.C.  41.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.       275 

Ottentatlon  of  Cleopatra.  Uonon  bestowed  o&  her 

to  go  to  the  same  place,  and  to  triumph  over 
her  rival  there,  by  making  so  great  a  lisplay  of 
her  wealth  and  magnificence,  and  of  her*asoend- 
enoy  over  the  mind  of  Antony,  as  should  en- 
tirely transcend  and  outshine  the  more  unas- 
suming pretensions  of  Octavia.  She  was  not 
willing,  it  seems,  to  leave  to  the  unhappy  wife 
whom  she  had  so  cruelly  wronged  even  the  pos- 
session of  a  place  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  of 
this  foreign  city,  but  must  go  and  enviously 
strive  to  efface  the  impression  which  injured 
innocence  had  made,  by  an  ostentatious  exhibi- 
tion of  the  triumphant  prosperity  of  her  own 
shameless  wickedness.  She  succeeded  well  in 
her  plans.  The  people  of  Athens  were  amazed 
and  bewildered  at  the  immense  magnificence 
that  Cleopatra  exhibited  before  them.  She  dis- 
tributed vast  sums  of  money  among  the  people. 
The  *'-  in  return,  decreed  to  her  the  most  ex- 
alted honors.  They  sent  a  solemn  embassy  to 
her  to  present  her  with  these  decrees.  Antony 
himself,  in  the  character  of  a  citizen  of  Athens, 
was  one  of  the  embassadors.  Cleopatra  receiv- 
ed the  deputation  at  her  palace.  The  reception 
was  attended  with  the  most  splendid  and  im- 
posing ceremonies. 

Ctne  would  have  supposed  thai  Cleopatra** 


276  Clbopatjia.  [B.C.31 

I  of  Antony.  Approach  of  Octariu 


cruel  and  unnatural  hostility  to  Ootavia  might 
now  have  been  satisfied ;  but  it  was  not.  An 
tony,  while  he  was  at  Athens,  and  doubtless  ai 
Cleopatra's  instigation,  sent  a  messenger  to 
Rome  with  a  notice  of  divorcement  to  Octavia, 
and  with  an  order  that  she  should  leave  his 
house.  Octavia  obeyed.  She  went  forth  from 
her  home,  taking  the  children  with  her,  and  bit 
terly  lamenting  her  cruel  destiny. 

In  the  mean  time,  while  all  these  events  had 
been  transpiring  in  the  East,  Octavius  had  been 
making  his  preparations  for  the  coming  crisis, 
and  was  now  advancing  with  a  powerful  fleet 
across  the  sea.  He  was  armed  vnth  authority 
from  the  Roman  senate  and  people,  for  he  had 
obtained  from  them  a  decree  deposing  Antony 
from  his  power.  The  charges  made  against 
him  all  related  to  misdemeanors  and  offenses 
arising  out  of  his  connection  with  Cleopatra. 
Octavius  contrived  to  get  possession  of  a  will 
which  Antony  had  written  before  leaving  Rome, 
and  which  he  had  placed  there  in  what  he  sup- 
posed a  very  sacred  place  of  deposit.  The  ons* 
todians  who  had  it  in  charge  replied  to  Octa> 
vins,  when  he  demanded  it,  that  they  would  not 
giro  it  to  him,  but  if  he  wished  to  take  it  they 
would  not  hinder  him      Octavius  then  took  th« 


B.C.dl.]  The  Battle  of  Actilm.       277 

Aakmy's  wiU.  Charges  agalnit  Us 

will,  and  read  it  to  the  Roman  senate.  It  pro- 
vided, among  other  things,  that  at  his  death,  if 
his  death  should  happen  at  Rome,  his  body 
■hould  be  sent  to  Alexandria  to  be  given  to  CI©, 
opatra ;  and  it  evinced  in  other  ways  a  degree 
of  subserviency  and  devotedness  to  the  Egyp- 
tian queen  which  was  considered  wholly  un- 
worthy of  a  Roman  chief  magistrate.  Antony 
was  accused,  too,  of  having  plundered  cities  and 
provinces  to  make  presents  to  Cleopatra ;  of 
having  sent  a  library  of  two  hundred  thousand 
volumes  to  her  from  Pergamus,  to  replace  the 
one  which  Julius  Ceesar  had  accidentally  burn- 
ed ;  of  having  raised  her  sons,  ignoble  as  their 
birth  was,  to  high  places  of  trust  and  power  in 
the  Roman  government,  and  of  having  in  many 
ways  compromised  the  dignity  of  a  Roman  offi- 
cer by  his  unworthy  conduct  in  reference  to  her. 
He  used,  for  example,  when  presiding  at  a  ju- 
dicial tribunal,  to  receive  love-letters  sent  him 
from  Cleopatra,  and  then  at  once  turn  off  his 
attention  from  the  proceedings  going  forward 
before  him  to  read  the  letters.*     Sometimes  he 

*  These  letters,  in  accordance  with  the  scale  of  expeoM 
and  extravagance  on  which  Cleopatra  determined  that  every 
thing  relating  to  herself  and  Antony  should  be  done,  were 
engraved  on  tablets  made  of  onyx,  at  crystal,  or  sther  hard 
and  imcioiu  stones. 


278  Cleopatra  [13C.31 

Aatowy'tMilMtorUidatiai.  MaadncoTltefaali 

did  this  when  sitting  in  the  chair  of  state,  giv- 
ing audience  to  embassadors  and  princes.  Cle» 
•patra  probably  sent  these  letters  in  at  saoh 
times  under  the  influence  of  a  wanton  disposi* 
tion  to  show  her  power.  At  one  time,  as  Oo- 
tavius  said  in  his  arguments  before  the  Roman 
senate,  Antony  was  hearing  a  cause  of  the  great- 
est importance,  and  during  a  time  in  the  prog- 
ress of  the  cause  when  one  of  the  principal  or- 
ators of  the  city  was  addressing  him,  Cleopatra 
came  passing  by,  when  Antony  suddenly  arose, 
and,  leaving  the  court  without  any  ceremony, 
ran  out  to  follow  her.  These  and  a  thousand 
similar  tales  exhibited  Antony  in  so  odious  a 
light,  that  his  friends  forsook  his  cause,  and  his 
enemies  gained  a  complete  triumph.  The  de- 
cree was  passed  against  him,  and  Octavius  was 
authorized  to  carry  it  into  effect ;  and  accord- 
ingly, while  Antony,  with  his  fleet  and  army, 
was  moving  westward  from  Samos  and  the 
.^Bgean  Sea,  Octavius  was  coming  eastward 
and  southward  down  the  Adriatic  to  meet  himi 
In  process  of  time,  after  various  maneuvers 
and  delays,  the  two  armaments  came  into  the 
vicinity  of  each  other  at  a  place  called  Aotium, 
which  will  be  found  upon  the  map  on  the  west- 
©rn  coast  cf  Epirus,  north  of  Greece.     Both  o^ 


B.C.  31.J  The  Battle  op  Actium.      279 

Opinions  at  the  counoQ.  Cleopatra'i  wlahea, 

the  commanders  had  powerful  fleets  at  sea,  and 
both  had  great  armies  upon  the  land.  Antony 
was  strongest  in  land  troops,  but  his  fleet  was 
inferior  to  that  of  Octavius,  and  he  was  him- 
self inolined  to  remain  on  the  land  and  fight  the 
principal  battle  there.  But  Cleopatra  would 
not  consent  to  this.  She  urged  him  to  give 
Octavius  battle  at  sea.  The  motive  which  in- 
duced her  to  do  this  has  been  supposed  to  be 
her  wish  to  provide  a  more  sure  way  of  escape 
in  case  of  an  unfavorable  issue  to  the  conflict. 
She  thought  that  in  her  galleys  she  could  make 
sail  at  once  across  the  sea  to  Alexandria  in 
case  of  defeat,  whereas  she  knew  not  what 
would  become  of  her  if  beaten  at  the  head  of  an 
army  on  the  land.  The  ablest  counselors  and 
chief  officers  in  the  army  urged  Antony  very 
strongly  not  to  trust  himself  to  the  sea.  To  all 
their  arguments  and  remonstrances,  however, 
Antony  turned  a  deaf  ear.  Cleopatra  must  be 
allowed  to  have  her  way. 

On  the  morning  of  the  battle,  when  the  ships 
were  drawn  up  in  array,  Cleopatra  held  the 
command  of  a  division  of  fifty  or  sixty  Egyp- 
tian vessels,  which  were  all  completely  manned, 
and  well  equipped  with  masts  and  sails.  She 
took  good  care  to  have  every  thing  in  perfect 


280  Cleopatra.  [B A  31 

Batiie  of  Acttnm.  PUght  of  Clft.«|Mttm 

order  for  flight,  in  case  flight  should  prove  1 1  b« 
necessary.  With  these  ships  she  took  a  station 
in  reserve,  and  for  a  time  remained  there  a 
quiet  witness  of  the  battle.  The  ships  of  Oo- 
tavius  advanced  to  the  attack  of  those  of  Anto- 
ny, and  the  men  fought  from  deck  to  deck  with 
spears,  boarding-pikes,  flaming  darts,  and  everj 
other  destructive  missile  which  the  military  art 
had  then  devised.  Antony's  ships  had  to  con- 
tend against  great  disadvantages.  They  were 
not  only  outnumbered  by  those  of  Octavius, 
but  were  far  surpassed  by  them  in  the  efficien- 
cy with  which  they  were  manned  and  armed. 
Still,  it  was  a  very  obstinate  conflict.  Cleopa- 
tra, however,  did  not  wait  to  see  how  it  was  to 
be  finally  decided.  As  Antony's  forces  did  not  ] 
immediately  gain  the  victory,  she  soon  began  to  / 
yield  to  her  fears  in  respect  to  the  result,  and,  / 
finally^  fell  into  a  panic  and  resolved  to  fly^ 
She  ordered  the  oars  to  be  manned  and  the  sails 
to  be  hoisted,  and  then  forcing  her  way  through 
a  portion  of  the  fleet  that  was  engaged  in  the 
contest,  and  throwing  the  vessels  into  confusion 
as  she  passed,  she  succeeded  in  getting  to  sea, 
and  then  pressed  on,  under  full  sail,  down  the 
coast  to  tlie  southward.  Antony,  as  soon  as  he 
perceived  that  she  was  going,  abandoning  everv 


B.C.31.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.       381 

Antony  followi  Cleopatra.  He  gains  her  galley 

other  thought,  and  impelled  by  his  insane  de- 
votedness  to  her,  hastily  called  up  a  galley  of 
five  banks  of  oars,  and,  leaping  on  board  of  it, 
ordered  the  oarsmen  to  pull  with  all  their  force 
alter  Cleopatra's  flying  squadron. 

Cleopatra,  looking  back  from  the  deck  of  hei 
vessel,  saw  this  swift  galley  pressing  on  toward 
her.  She  raised  a  signal  at  the  stern  of  the 
vessel  which  she  was  in,  that  Antony  might 
know  for  which  of  the  fifty  flying  ships  he  was 
to  steer.  Guided  by  the  signal,  Antony  came 
up  to  the  vessel,  and  the  sailors  hoisted  him  up 
the  side  and  helped  him  in.  Cleopatra  had 
however,  disappeared.  Overcome  with  shams 
and  confusion,  she  did  not  dare,  it  seems,  to 
meet  the  look  of  the  wretched  victim  of  her  arts 
whom  she  had  now  irretrievably  ruined.  An- 
tony did  not  seek  her.  He  did  not  speak  a 
word.  He  went  forward  to  the  prow  of  the  ship, 
and,  throwing  himself  down  there  alone,  press 
ed  his  head  between  his  hands,  and  seemed  stun- 
ned and  stupefied,  and  utterly  overwhelmed 
with  horror  and  despair. 

He  was,  however,  soon  aroused  from  his  stu- 
por by  an  alarm  raised  on  board  his  galley  that 
they  were  pursued.  He  rose  from  his  seat, 
neized  appear,  and,  on  ascending  to  the  quarter- 


282  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  3L 

AntoDT  punned.  A  aerera  eonlilc* 

deck,  saw  that  there  were  a  number  of  small 
light  boats,  full  of  men  and  of  arms,  coming  ap 
behind  them,  and  gaining  rapidly  upon  his  gal* 
ley.  Antony,  now  free  for  a  moment  from  his 
enchantress's  sway,  and  acting  onder  the  im- 
pulse of  his  own  indomitable  boldness  and  de- 
cision, instead  of  urging  the  oarsmen  to  press 
forward  more  rapidly  in  order  to  make  good 
their  escape,  ordered  the  helm  to  be  put  about, 
and  thus,  turning  the  galley  around,  he  faced 
Jiis  pursuers,  and  drove  his  ship  into  the  midst 
of  them.  A  violent  conflict  ensued,  the  din  and 
confusion  of  which  was  increased  by  the  shocks 
and  collisions  between  the  boats  and  the  galley. 
In  the  end,  the  boats  were  beaten  off",  all  ex- 
cepting one :  that  one  kept  still  hovering  near, 
and  the  commander  of  it,  who  stood  upon  the 
deck,  poising  his  spear  with  an  aim  at  Antony, 
and  seeking  eagerly  an  opportunity  to  throw  it, 
seemed  by  his  attitude  and  the  expression  3f 
his  countenance  to  be  animated  by  some  pecu- 
liarly bitter  feeling  of  hostility  and  hate.  An- 
tony asked  him  who  he  was,  that  dared  so 
fiercely  to  threaten  him.  The  man  replied  by 
giving  his  name,  and  saying  that  he  came  to 
avenge  the  death  of  his  father.  It  proved  that 
he  was  the  son  of  a  man  whom  Antony  had  at 


B.C.31.]  The  Battle  of  Actium.       283 

The  arenger  of  a  father.  Antony*!  angalah 

a  previous  time,  on  some  account  or  other, 
caused  to  be  beheaded. 

There  followed  an  obstinate  contest  between 
Antony  and  this  fierce  assailant,  in  the  end  of 
which  the  latter  was  beaten  off.  The  boats 
then,  having  succeeded  in  making  some  prizes 
from  Antony's  fleet,  though  they  had  failed  in 
capturing  Antony  himself,  gave  up  the  pursuit 
and  returned.  Antony  then  went  back  to  hia 
place,  sat  down  in  the  prow,  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands,  and  sank  into  the  same  condition  of 
hopeless  distress  and  anguish  as  before. 

When  husband  and  wife  are  overwhelmed 
with  misfortune  and^  suffering,  each  instinct- 
ively seeks  a  refuge  in  the  sympathy  and  sup- 
port of  the  other.  It  is,  however,  far  otherwise 
with  such  connections  as  that  of  Antony  and 
Cleopatra.  Conscience,  which  remains  calm 
and  quiet  in  prosperity  and  sunshine,  rises  up 
with  sudden  and  unexpected  violence  as  soon 
as  the  hour  of  calamity  comes ;  and  thus,  in- 
stead of  mutual  comfort  and  help,  each  finds  in 
the  thoughts  of  the  other  only  the  means  of 
adding  the  horrors  of  remorse  to  the  anguish  of 
disappointment  and  despair.  So  extreme  was 
Antony's  distress,  that  for  three  days  he  and 
Cleopatra  neither  saw  nor  spoke  to  each  other 


284  Cleopatra.  [B.aSl. 

Antony  tad  Cleopatra  ihnn  each  other.  Arriral  at  Tsnanuk 

She  was  overwhelmed  with  confusion  and  cha- 
grin, and  he  was  in  such  a  condition  of  mental 
excitement  that  she  did  not  dare  to  approach 
him.  In  a  word,  reason  seemed  to  have  wholly 
lost  its  sway — his  mind,  in  the  alternations  of 
his  insanity,  rising  sometimes  to  fearful  excite- 
ment, in  paroxysms  of  uncontrollable  rage,  and 
then  sinking  again  for  a  time  into  the  stupor 
of  despair. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  ships  were  passing 
down  as  rapidly  as  possible  on  the  western  coast 
of  Greece.  When  they  reached  Taenarus,  the 
southern  promontory  of  the  peninsula,  it  was 
necessary  to  pause  and  consider  what  was  to  be 
done.  Cleopatra's  women  went  to  Antony  and 
attempted  to  quiet  and  calm  him.  They  brought 
him  food.  They  persuaded  him  to  see  Cleopatra. 
A  great  number  of  merchant  ships  from  the 
ports  along  the  coast  gathered  around  Antony'3 
little  fleet  and  offered  their  services.  His  cause, 
they  said,  was  by  no  means  desperate.  The 
army  on  the  land  had  not  been  beaten.  It  was 
not  even  certain  that  his  fleet  had  been  oon> 
quered.  They  endeavored  thus  to  revive  the 
mined  commander's  sinking  courage,  and  to 
urge  him  to  make  a  new  effort  to  retrieve  his 
fortunes.     But  all  was  in  vain.     Antony  wa» 


B.C.  31.]  The  Battle  op  Actiwm.      285 

Antony  and  Cleopatra  fly  together  to  Egypt 

sank  in  a  hopeless  despondency.  Cleopatra  was 
determined  on  going  to  Egypt,  and  he  must  go 
too.  He  distributed  what  treasure  remained 
at  his  disposal  among  his  immediate  follower  f 
and  friends,  and  gave  them  advice  about  the 
means  of  concealing  themselves  until  they  could 
make  peace  with  Octavius.  Then,  giving  up 
all  as  lost,  he  followed  Cleopatra  across  the  se» 
to  Alexandria. 


286  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30 

Iwftfillnw  of  Aa>u«y.  Hlf  Mil j  •hanela* 


Chapter  XII. 

The  End  of  Cleopatra. 

fllHE  case  of  Mark  Antony  affords  one  of  tho 
-*■  most  extraordinary  examples  of  the  power 
of  unlawful  love  to  lead  its  deluded  and  infatu- 
ated victim  into  the  very  jaws  of  open  and  rec- 
ognized destruction  that  history  records.  Cases 
similar  in  character  occur  by  thousands  in  com- 
mon life ;  but  Antony's,  though  perhaps  not 
more  striking  in  itself  than  a  great  multitude 
of  others  have  been,  is  the  most  conspicuous  in- 
stance that  has  ever  been  held  up  to  the  obser- 
vation of  mankind. 

In  early  life,  Antony  was  remarkable,  as  we 
have  a-ready  seen,  for  a  certain  savage  rugged- 
ness  of  character,  and  for  a  stern  and  indomita- 
ble recklessness  of  vdll,  so  great  that  it  seemed 
impossible  that  any  thing  human  should  be  able 
to  tame  him.  He  was  under  the  control,  too, 
of  an  ambition  so  lofty  and  aspiring  that  it  ap- 
peared to  know  no  bounds ;  and  yet  we  find  him 
taken  possession  of,  in  the  very  midst  of  his  oa- 
reer,  and  in  the  height  of  his  prosperity  and 


B.C.30.]  The  End  of   Cleopatra.      287 

Powerful  Influence  of  Cleopatra  oTer  Antonjr 
1 .^_ 

success,  by  a  woman,  and  so  subdued  by  her 
arts  and  fascinations  as  to  yield  himself  wholly 
to  her  guidance,  and  allow  himself  to  be  led 
about  by  her  entirely  at  her  will.  She  displaces 
whatever  there  might  have  been  that  was  noble 
and  generous  in  his  heart,  and  substitutes  there- 
for her  own  principles  of  malice  and  cruelty. 
She  extinguishes  all  the  fires  of  his  ambition, 
originally  so  magnificent  in  its  aims  that  the 
world  seemed  hardly  large  enough  to  afford  it 
?icope,  and  instead  of  this  lofty  passion,  fills  his 
soul  with  a  love  of  the  lowest,  vilest,  and  most 
ignoble  pleasures.  She  leads  him  to  betray 
every  public  trust,  to  alienate  from  himself  all 
the  affections  of  his  countrymen,  to  repel  most 
cruelly  the  kindness  and  devotedness  of  a  beau- 
tiful and  faithful  wife,  and,  finally,  to  expel  this 
wife  and  all  of  his  own  legitimate  family  from 
his  house ;  and  now,  at  last,  she  conducts  him 
away  in  a  most  cowardly  and  ignoble  flight 
from  the  field  of  his  duty  as  a  soldier — he  know- 
ing, all  the  time,  that  she  is  hurrying  him  to 
disgrace  and  destruction,  and  yet  utterly  with- 
out power  to  break  from  the  control  of  his  invis- 
ible chains. 

The  indignation  which  Antony's  base  aban- 


2«8  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30 

bullgnmtlon  at  Antonj'i  eondoet  Plant  at  Cleopatra 

Jonment  of  his  fleet  and  army  at  the  battle  of 
Aotium  excited,  over  all  that  part  of  the  empire 
which  had  been  under  his  command,  was  ex- 
treme. There  was  not  the  slightest  possible 
excuse  for  such  a  flight.  His  army,  in  which 
his  greatest  strength  lay,  remained  unharmed, 
and  evon  his  fleet  was  not  defeated.  The  ships 
continued  the  combat  until  night,  notwithstand- 
ing the  betrayal  of  their  cause  by  their  com- 
mander. They  were  at  length,  however,  sub- 
dued. The  army,  also,  being  discouraged,  and 
losing  all  motive  for  resistance,  yielded  too.  In 
a  rery  short  time  the  whole  country  went  over 
ta  Ootavius's  side. 

In  the  mean  time,  Cleopatra  and  Antony,  on 
'iieir  first  return  to  Egypt,  were  completely  be- 
«ide  themselves  with  terror.  Cleopatra  formed 
%  plan  for  having  all  the  treasures  that  she 
t5ould  save,  and  a  certain  number  of  galleys  suf- 
ficient for  the  transportation  of  these  treasures 
and  a  small  company  of  friends,  carried  across 
the  isthmus  of  Suez  and  launched  upon  the  Red 
Sea,  in  order  that  she  might  escape  in  that  di- 
rection, and  find  some  remote  hiding-place  and 
safe  retreat  on  the  shores  of  Arabia  or  India, 
beyond  the  reach  of  OctaArius's  dreaded  power. 
She  actually  commenced  this  undertaking,  and 


B.C.  5U.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      28S 

Antony  becomes  a  misanthrope.  ni«  hut  on  the  bland  of  Pharos 

sent  one  or  two  of  her  galleys  across  the  isth* 
mus ;  but  the  Arabs  seized  them  as  soon  as  they 
reached  their  place  of  destination,  and  killed  or 
captured  the  men  that  had  them  in  charge,  so 
that  this  desperate  scheme  was  soon  abandoned. 
She  and  Antony  then  finally  concluded  to  estab- 
lish themselves  at  Alexandria,  and  made  prep- 
aration, as  well  ds  they  could,  for  defending 
themselves  against  Oclavius  there. 

Antony,  when  the  first  effects  of  his  panic 
subsided,  began  to  grow  mad  with  vexation  and 
resentment  against  all  mankind.  He  determ- 
med  that  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  Cle- 
opatra or  with  any  of  her  friends,  but  went  off 
in  a  fit  of  sullen  rage,  and  built  a  hermitage  in 
%  lonely  place  on  the  island  of  Pharos,  where  he 
Jived  for  a  time,  cursing  his  folly  and  his  wretch- 
ed fate,  and  uttering  the  bitterest  invectives 
against  all  who  had  been  concerned  in  it.  Here 
tidings  came  continually  in,  informing  him  of 
the  defection  of  one  after  another  of  his  armies, 
of  the  fall  of  his  provinces  in  Greece  and  Asia 
Minor,  and  of  the  irresistible  progress  which 
Ootavius  was  now  making  toward  universal  do- 
minion. The  tidings  of  these  disasters  coming 
incessantly  upon  him  kept  him  in  a  oontinua. 

♦iever  of  resentment  and  rage. 
16—19 


290  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30. 

Antony'*  recondllaticn  with  Cleopatra.  Seenea  of  rerelry 

At  last  he  became  tired  of  his  misanthropic 
Bolitude,  a  sort  of  reconciliation  ensued  between 
himself  and  Cleopatra,  and  he  went  back  again 
to  the  city.  Here  he  joined  himself  once  more 
to  Cleopatra,  and,  collecting  together  what  re- 
mained of  their  J9int  resources,  they  plunged 
again  into  a  life  of  dissipation  and  vice,  with 
the  vain  attempt  to  drown  in  mirth  and  wine 
the  bitter  regrets  and  the  anxious  forebodings 
which  filled  their  souls.  They  joined  with  them 
a  company  of  revelers  as  abandoned  as  them- 
selves, and  strove  very  hard  to  disguise  and  con- 
ceal their  cares  in  their  forced  and  unnatural 
gayety.  They  could  not,  however,  accomplish 
this  purpose.  Octavius  was  gradually  advan- 
cing in  his  progress,  and  they  knew  very  well 
that  the  time  of  his  dreadful  reckoning  with 
them  must  soon  come ;  nor  was  there  any  place 
on  earth  in  which  they  could  look  with  any 
hope  of  finding  a  refuge  in  it  from  his  vindictive 
hostility. 

Cleopatra,  warned  by  dreadful  presentiments 
of  what  would  probably  at  last  be  her  fate, 
amused  herself  in  studying  the  nature  of  pois- 
ons— not  theoretically,  but  practically — making 
experiments  with  them  on  wretched  prisoners 
and  captives  whom  she  compelled  to  take  them* 


B.C.SO.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.       ii91 

Claopatra  makes  a  eoUectlon  of  poisons.      Her  exporimenti  wifii  theoh 

in  order  that  she  and  Antony  might  see  the  ef- 
fects which  they  produced.  She  made  a  ooUeo* 
tion  of  all  the  poisons  which  she  could  procure, 
and  administered  portions  of  them  all,  that  she 
might  see  which  were  sudden  and  which  were 
slow  in  their  effects,  and  also  learn  which  pro- 
duced the  greatest  distress  and  suffering,  and 
which,  on  the  other  hand,  only  benumbed  and 
stupefijd  the  faculties,  and  thus  extinguished 
life  wit'.i  the  least  infliction  of  pain.  These  ex- 
periments were  not  confined  to  such  vegetable 
and  mineral  poisons  as  could  be  mingled  with 
the  food  or  administered  in  a  potion.  Cleopa- 
tra took  an  equal  interest  in  the  effects  of  the 
bite  of  venomous  serpents  and  reptiles.  She 
procured  specimens  of  all  these  animals,  and 
tried  them  upon  her  prisoners,  causing  the  men 
to  be  stung  and  bitten  by  them,  and  then  watch- 
ing the  effects.  These  investigations  were  made, 
not  directly  with  a  view  to  any  practical  use 
which  she  was  to  make  of  the  knowledge  thus 
acquired,  but  rather  as  an  agreeable  occupation, 
to  divert  her  mind,  and  to  amuse  Antony  and 
her  guests.  The  variety  in  the  forma  and  ex- 
isressions  which  the  agony  of  her  poisoned  vio- 
tims  assumed— their  writhings,  their  cries,  their 
oonvulsions,  and  the  distortions  of  thear  features 


292  CiEOPATRA.  [B.C  aO 

Aotony't  Misplcloiu.  Cl«op«tra's  ( 


when  struggling  with  death,  furnished  exactly 
the  kind  and  degree  of  excitement  which  sh 
needed  to  occupy  and  amuse  her  mind. 

Antony  was  not  entirely  at  ease,  however, 
during  the  progress  of  these  terrible  expert 
ments.  His  foolish  and  childish  fondness  foi 
Cleopatra  was  mingled  with  jealousy,  suspicion, 
and  distrust ;  and  he  was  so  afraid  that  Cleo- 
patra might  secretly  poison  him,  that  he  would 
never  take  any  food  or  wine  without  requiring 
that  she  should  taste  it  before  him.  At  length, 
one  day,  Cleopatra  caused  the  petals  of  some 
flowers  to  be  poisoned,  and  then  had  the  flow- 
ers woven  into  the  chaplet  which  Antony  was 
to  wear  at  supper.  In  the  midst  of  the  feast, 
she  pulled  off"  the  leaves  of  the  flowers  from  her 
own  chaplet  and  put  them  playfully  into  her 
wine,  and  then  proposed  that  Antony  should  do 
the  same  with  his  chaplet,  and  that  they  should 
then  drink  the  wine,  tinctured,  as  it  would  be, 
with  the  color  and  the  perfume  of  the  flowers. 
Antony  entered  very  readily  into  this  proposal 
and  when  he  was  about  to  drink  the  wine,  <he 
arrested  his  hand,  and  told  him  that  it  was  pois- 
oned "  You  see  now,"  said  she,  "  how  vain  it 
is  for  you  to  watch  against  me.  If  it  were  po». 
■iblo  tor  me  to  live  without  you,  how  easy  i< 


B.C.aO.j  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      293 

Tbe  bite  of  the  asp.  Cleopatra's  tomb 

would  be  for  me  to  devise  ways  and  means  to 
kill  you."  Then,  to  prove  that  her  words  were 
true,  she  ordered  one  of  tne  servants  to  drink 
Antony's  wine.  He  did  so,  and  died  before 
their  sight  in  dreadful  agony. 

The  experiments  which  Cleopatra  thus  made 
on  the  nature  and  effects  of  poison  were  not, 
however,  wholly  without  practical  result.  Cle- 
opatra learned  from  them,  it  is  said,  that  the 
bite  of  the  asp  was  the  easiest  and  least  painful 
mode  of  death.  The  effect  of  the  venom  of  that 
animal  appeared  to  her  to  be  the  lulling  of  the 
sensorium  into  a  lethargy  or  stupor,  which  soon 
ended  in  detth,  without  the  intervention  of  pain 
This  knowledge  she  seems  to  have  laid  up  in 
her  mind  for  future  use. 

The  thoughts  of  Cleopatra  appear,  in  fact,  to 
have  been  much  disposed,  at  this  time,  to  flow 
in  gloomy  channels,  for  she  occupied  herself  a 
great  deal  in  building  for  herself  a  sepulchral 
monument  in  a  certain  sacred  portion  of  the 
city  This  monument  had,  in  fact,  been  com- 
menced many  years  ago,  in  accordance  with  a 
custom  prevailing  among  Egyptian  sovereigns, 
of  expending  a  portion  of  their  revenues  during 
their  life-time  in  building  and  decorating  their 
own  tombs.     Cleopatra  now  turned  her  mind 


894  Cleopatra.  [B.C.80 

PragTMa  of  Oolaflus.  PropoMl  of  ABtony 

with  new  interest  to  her  own  mausoleum.  She 
finished  it,  provided  it  with  the  strongest  possi 
ble  bolts  and  bars,  and,  in  a  word,  seemed  to  be 
preparing  it  in  all  respects  for  occupation. 

In  the  mean  time,  Ootavius,  having  made 
himself  master  of  all  the  countries  which  lad 
formerly  been  under  Antony's  sway,  now  ad- 
vanced,  meeting  none  to  oppose  him,  from  Asia 
Minor  into  Syria,  and  from  Syria  toward  Egypt. 
Antony  and  Cleopatra  made  one  attempt,  while 
he  was  thus  advancing  toward  Alexandria,  t« 
avert  the  storm  which  was  impending  over  them, 
by  sending  an  embassage  to  ask  for  some  terms 
of  peace.  Antony  proposed,  in  this  embassage, 
to  give  up  every  thing  to  his  conqueror  on  con- 
dition that  he  might  be  permitted  to  retire  un- 
molested with  Cleopatra  to  Athens,  and  allowed 
to  spend  the  remainder  of  their  days  there  in 
peace ;  and  that  the  kingdom  of  Egypt  might 
descend  to  their  children.  Octavius  replied 
that  he  could  not  make  any  terms  with  Antony, 
though  he  was  willing  to  consent  to  any  thing 
that  was  reasonable  in  behalf  of  Cleopatra.  The 
messenger  who  came  back  from  Octavius  with 
this  reply  spent  some  time  in  private  inter- 
riews  with  Cleopatra,  This  aroused  Antony't 
jealousy  and  anger.     He  accordingly  ordered 


B.C.  aO.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      295 

Octaviua  at  Peliuiom.  Cleopatra's  troaiuret. 

the  unfortunate  messenger  to  be  scourged  and 
then  sent  back  to  Octavius,  all  lacerated  with 
wounds,  with  orders  to  say  to  Octavius  that  if 
it  displeased  him  to  have  one  of  his  servants 
thus  punished,  he  might  revenge  himself  by 
scourging  a  servant  of  Antony's,  who  was  then, 
US  it  happened,  in  Octavius's  power. 

The  news  at  length  suddenly  arrived  at  Alex- 
andria  that  Octavius  had  appeared  before  Pe- 
lusium,  and  that  the  city  had  fallen  into  his 
hands.  The  next  thing  Antony  and  Cleopatra 
well  knew  would  be,  that  they  should  see  him 
at  the  gates  of  Alexandria.  Neither  Antony 
nor  Cleopatra  had  any  means  of  resisting  his 
progress,  and  there  was  no  place  to  which  they 
could  fly.  Nothing  was  to  be  done  but  to  await, 
in  consternation  and  terror,  the  sure  and  inev- 
itable doom  which  was  now  so  near. 

Cleopatra  gathered  together  all  her  treasures 
and  sent  them  to  her  tomb.  These  treasures 
consisted  of  great  and  valuable  stores  of  gold, 
filver,  precious  stones,  garments  of  the  highest 
oost,  and  weapons,  and  vessels  of  exquisite 
workmanship  and  great  value,  the  hereditary 
possessions  of  the  Egyptian  kings.  She  also 
•ent  to  the  mausoleum  an  immense  quantity 
of  flax,  tow,  torches,  and  other  ooralustibles 


296  Cleopatra.  [BC.SO 

Pmn  of  Oetaviiu.  He  arrires  at  Alexandria 

These  she  stored  in  the  lower  apartments  cf 
the  monument,  with  the  desperate  determina- 
tion of  burning  herself  and  her  treasures  to- 
gether rather  than  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
Romans. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  army  of  Octavius 
steadily  continued  its  march  across  the  desert 
from  Pelusium  to  Alexandria.  On  the  way, 
Octavius  learned,  through  the  agents  in  com- 
munication with  him  from  within  the  city 
what  were  the  arrangements  which  Cleopatra 
had  made  for  the  destruction  of  her  treasure 
whenever  the  danger  should  become  imminent 
of  its  falling  into  his  hands.  He  was  extremelj 
unwilling  that  this  treasure  should  be  lost.  Be- 
sides its  intrinsic  value,  it  was  an  object  of  im- 
mense importance  to  him  to  get  possession  of 
it  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  it  to  Rome  as  a 
trophy  of  his  triumph.  He  accordingly  sent 
eecret  messengers  to  Cleopatra,  endeavoring  tc 
separate  her  from  Antony,  and  to  amuse  her 
mind  with  the  profession  that  he  felt  only  friend- 
ihip  for  her,  and  did  not  mean  to  do  her  any 
injury,  being  in  pursuit  of  Antony  only.  These 
negotiations  were  continued  from  day  to  day 
while  Octavius  was  advancing.  At  last  the 
Roman  army  reached  Alexandria,  and  invested 
it  on  every  side. 


B.C.30.J  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      297 

The  laDy.  The  nnfaithfol  eaptaliL 

As  soon  as  Octavius  was  established  in  his 
camp  under  the  walls  of  the  city,  Antonj 
planned  a  sally,  and  he  executed  it,  in  fact, 
with  considerable  energy  and  success.  He  is- 
sued suddenly  from  the  gates,  at  the  head  of  as 
strong  a  force  as  he  could  command,  and  at- 
tacked a  body  of  Octavius's  horsemen.  He 
succeeded  in  driving  these  horsemen  away  from 
their  position,  but  he  was  soon  driven  back  in 
his  turn,  and  compelled  to  retreat  to  the  city, 
fighting  as  he  fled,  to  beat  back  his  pursuers. 
He  was  extremely  elated  at  the  success  of  this 
skirmish.  He  came  to  Cleopatra  with  a  coun- 
tenance full  of  animation  and  pleasure,  took  her 
in  his  arms  and  kissed  her,  all  accoutered  for 
battle  as  he  was,  and  boasted  greatly  of  the  ex- 
ploit  which  he  had  performed.  He  praised,  too, 
in  the  highest  terms,  the  valor  of  one  of  the 
officers  who  had  gone  out  with  him  to  the  fight, 
and  whom  he  had  now  brought  to  the  palace  to 
present  to  Cleopatra.  Cleopatra  rewarded  tho 
faithful  captain's  prowess  with  a  magnificent 
suit  of  armor  made  of  gold.  Notwithstanding 
this  reward,  however,  the  man  deserted  Antony 
that  very  night,  and  went  over  to  the  enemy 
Almost  all  of  Antony's  adherents  were  in  the 
■ama  «tate  of  mind.     They  would  have  gladly 


298  Clisopatra.  [BC.30 

DIaaffection  of  Antony'i  men.  Deaertlon  of  tfa*  flea* 

gone  over  to  the  camp  of  Octavius,  if  they  could 
have  found  an  opportunity  to  do  so. 

In  fact,  when  the  final  battle  was  fought,  tho 
fate  of  it  was  decided  by  a  grand  <Jefection  in 
the  fleet,  which  went  over  in  a  body  to  the  side 
of  Octavius.  Antony  was  planning  the  opera- 
tions of  the  day,  and  reoonnoitering  the  move- 
ments of  the  enemy  from  an  eminence  which 
he  occupied  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  foot  soldiers 
— all  the  land  forces  that  now  remained  to  him 
— and  looking  off  from  the  eminence  on  which 
he  stood  toward  the  harbor,  he  observed  a  move- 
ment among  the  galleys.  They  were  going  out 
to  meet  the  ships  of  Octavius,  which  were  ly- 
ing at  anchor  not  very  far  from  them.  Antony 
supposed  that  his  vessels  were  going  to  attack 
those  of  the  enemy,  and  he  looked  to  see  what 
exploits  they  would  perform.  They  advanced 
toward  Octavius's  ships,  and  when  they  mot 
them,  Antony  observed,  to  his  utter  amazement, 
that,  instead  of  the  furious  combat  that  he  had 
expected  to  see,  the  ships  only  exchanged  friend- 
ly salutations,  by  the  use  of  the  customary  naval 
signals ;  and  then  his  ships,  passing  quietly 
round,  took  their  positions  in  the  lines  of  the 
other  fleet.  The  two  fleets  had  tho«  become 
mereed  and  mingled  into  ooa 


B.C.30.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      299 

Falae  ramor  of  Cleopatra'i  death.  Antony's  deipalr- 

Antony  immediately  decided  that  this  was 
Cleopatra's  treason.  She  had  made  peace  with 
Dotavius,  he  thought,  and  surrendered  the  fleet 
to  him  as  one  of  the  conditions  of  it.  Antony 
ran  through  the  city,  crying  out  that  he  was 
betrayed,  and  in  a  phrensy  of  rage  sought  the 
palace.  Cleopatra  fled  to  her  tomb.  She  took 
in  with  her  one  or  two  attendants,  and  bolted 
and  barred  the  doors,  securing  the  fastenings 
with  the  heavy  catches  and  springs  that  she  had 
previously  made  ready.  She  then  directed  her 
women  to  call  out  through  the  door  that  she 
had  killed  herself  within  the  tomb. 

The  tidings  of  her  death  were  borne  to  An- 
tony. It  changed  his  anger  to  grief  and  de- 
.spair.  His  mind,  in  fact,  was  now  wholly  lost 
to  all  balance  and  control,  and  it  passed  from 
the  dominion  of  one  stormy  passion  to  another 
with  the  most  capricious  facility.  He  cried  oat 
with  the  most  bitter  expressions  of  sorrow, 
mourning,  he  said,  not  so  much  Cleopatra's 
death,  for  he  should  soon  follow  and  join  her,  as 
the  fact  that  she  had  proved  herself  so  superior 
to  him  in  courage  at  last,  in  having  thus  an. 
tioipated  him  in  the  work  of  self-destruction. 

He  was  at  this  time  in  one  of  the  chambers 
«f  the  palace,  whither  he  had  fled  in  his  despair 


300  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30 

Broa.  Antonj's  attempt  to  kill  hlnueli 

and  was  standing  by  a  fire,  for  the  morning  y/u 
oold  He  had  a  favorite  servant  named  Eros, 
whom  he  greatly  trusted,  and  whom  he  had 
made  to  take  an  oath  long  before,  that  whenever 
h,  should  become  necessary  for  him  to  die,  Eros 
should  kill  him.  This  Eros  he  now  called  to 
him,  and  telling  him  that  the  time  was  come,  or- 
dered him  to  take  the  sword  and  strike  the  blow. 

Eros  took  the  sword  while  Antony  stood  up 
before  him.  Eros  turned  his  head  aside  as  if 
wishing  that  his  eyes  should  not  see  the  deed 
which  his  hands  were  about  to  perform.  In 
stead,  however,  of  piercing  his  master  v«dth  it, 
he  plunged  it  into  his  own  breast,  fell  down  at 
Antony's  feet,  and  died. 

Antony  gazed  a  moment  at  the  shocking  spec- 
tacle, and  then  said,  "  I  thank  thee  for  this,  noble 
Eros.  Thou  hast  set  me  an  example.  I  must 
do  for  myself  what  thou  couldst  not  do  for  me." 
So  saying,  he  took  the  sword  from  his  servant's 
hands,  plunged  it  into  his  body,  and  staggering 
to  a  little  bed  that  was  near,  fell  over  upon  it 
\n  a  swoon.     He  had  received  a  mortal  wound. 

The  pressure,  however,  which  was  produced 
by  the  position  in  which  he  lay  upon  the  bed, 
stanched  the  wound  a  little  and  stopped  the  flow 
of  blood.     Antony  came  presently  to  hinoself 


B.C.SO.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      301 

Antony  taken  to  Cleopatra.  She  refuses  to  open  the  door 

again,  and  then  began  to  beg  and  implore  those 
around  him  to  take  the  sword  and  put  him  out 
of  his  misery.  But  no  one  would  do  it.  He 
lay  for  a  time  suffering  great  pain,  and  moan- 
ing incessantly,  until,  at  length,  an  officer  came 
into  the  apartment  and  told  him  that  the  story 
which  he  had  heard  of  Cleopatra's  death  was 
not  true ;  that  she  was  still  alive,  shut  up  in  her 
monument,  and  that  she  desired  to  see  him 
there.  This  intelligence  was  the  source  of  new 
excitement  and  agitation.  Antony  implored  the 
by-standers  to  carry  him  to  Cleopatra,  that  he 
might  see  her  once  more  before  he  died.  They 
shrank  from  the  attempt ;  but,  after  some  hesi- 
tation and  delay,  they  concluded  to  undertake 
to  remove  him.  So,  taking  him  in  thefr  arms, 
they  bore  him  along,  faint  and  dying,  and 
marking  their  track  with  his  blood,  toward  the 
Jomb. 

Cleopatra  would  not  open  the  gates  to  let  the 
party  in.  The  city  was  all  in  uproar  and  con- 
fusion through  the  terror  of  the  assault  which 
Ootavius  was  making  upon  it,  and  she  did  not 
know  what  treachery  might  be  intended.  She 
therefore  went  up  to  a  window  above,  and  let- 
ting down  ropes  and  chains,  she  directed  those 
below  to  fasten  the  dying  body  to  them,  that 


302  Clkopatra.  [B.C.  30 

Antodj  taken  in  at  tlw  window.  Cleopatra'a  grlel 

she  and  the  two  women  with  her  might  draw  i1 
up.  This  was  done.  Those  who  witnessed  it 
said  that  it  was  a  most  piteous  sight  to  behold 
—Cleopatra  and  her  women  above  exhausting 
their  strength  in  drawing  the  wounded  and 
bleeding  sufferer  up  the  wall,  while  he,  when  he 
approached  the  window,  feebly  raised  his  arms 
to  them,  that  they  might  lift  him  in.  The 
women  had  hardly  strength  sufficient  to  draw 
the  body  up.  At  one  time  it  seemed  that  the 
attempt  would  have  to  be  abandoned ;  but  Cle- 
opatra reached  down  from  the  window  as  far  as 
she  could  to  get  hold  of  Antony's  arms,  and 
thus,  by  dint  of  great  effort,  they  succeeded  at 
last  in  taking  him  in.  They  bore  him  to  a 
couch  which  was  in  the  upper  room  from  which 
the  window  opened,  and  laid  him  down,  while 
Cleopatra  wrung  her  hands,  and  tore  her  hair, 
and  uttered  the  most  piercing  lamentations  and 
cries.  She  leaned  over  the  dying  Antony,  cry- 
ing out  incessantly  with  the  most  piteous  ex- 
alamations  of  grief.  She  bathed  his  face,  which 
was  covered  with  blood,  and  vainly  endeavored 
to  stanch  his  wound. 

Antony  urged  her  to  be  oalir,  and  not  to 
mourn  his  fate.  He  asked  for  some  wine.  They 
brought  it  to  him,  and  he  drank  it.     He  then 


B.C. 30.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      305 

Death  of  Aatony.  Cleopatra  nude  piiaonet', 

entreated  Cleopatra  to  save  her  life,  if  she  pos- 
sibly could  do  so,  and  to  make  some  terms  oi 
other  with  Octavius,  so  as  to  continue  to  live. 
Very  soon  after  this  he  expired. 

In  the  mean  time,  Octavius  had  heard  of  tlia 
mortal  wound  which  Antony  had  given  him- 
self ;  for  one  of  the  by-standers  had  seized  the 
aword  the  moment  that  the  deed  was  done,  and 
had  hastened  to  carry  it  to  Octavius,  and  to  an- 
nounce to  him  the  death  of  his  enemy.  Octa- 
vius immediately  desired  to  get  Cleopatra  into 
his  power.  He  sent  a  messenger,  therefore,  to 
the  tomb,  who  attempted  to  open  a  parley  there 
with  her.  Cleopatra  talked  with  the  messen- 
ger through  the  keyholes  or  crevices,  but  could 
not  be  induced  to  open  the  door.  The  messen- 
ger reported  these  facts  to  Octayius.  Octavius 
then  sent  another  man  with  the  messenger,  and 
while  one  was  engaging  the  attention  of  Cleo- 
patra and  her  women  at  the  door  below,  the 
other  obtained  ladders,  and  succeeded  in  gain- 
ing admission  into  the  window  above.  Cleopa- 
tra was  warned  of  the  success  of  this  stratagem 
by  the  shriek  of  her  woman,  who  saw  the  officer 
coming  down  the  stairs.  She  looked  around, 
and  observing  at  a  glance  that  she  was  betray- 
ed, and  that  the  officer  was  coming  to  seize  her, 
16—20 


806  Cleopatra.  [1VC.30 

Treatment  of  Cleopatra.  Octarltu  take*  poaaeaslon  of  Alexandria 

she  drew  a  little  dagger  from  her  robe,  and  wa« 
about  to  plunge  it  into  her  breast,  when  the 
officer  grasped  her  arm  just  in  time  to  prevent 
the  blow.  He  took  the  dagger  from  her,  and 
then  examined  her  clothes  to  see  that  there 
were  no  other  secret  weapons  concealed  there. 

The  capture  of  the  queen  being  reported  to 
Octavius,  he  appointed  an  officer  to  take  her 
into  close  custody.  This  officer  was  charged  to 
treat  her  with  all  possible  courtesy,  but  to  keep 
a  close  and  constant  watch  over  her,  and  par- 
ticularly to  guard  against  allowing  her  any  pos- 
sible means  or  opportunity  for  self-destruction. 

In  the  mean  time,  Octavius  took  formal  pos- 
session of  the  city,  marching  in  at  the  head  of 
his  troops  with  the  most  imposing  pomp  end 
parade.  A  chair  of  state,  magnificently  deco- 
rated, was  set  up  for  him  on  a  high  elevation  in 
a  public  square ;  and  here  he  sat,  with  circles 
of  guards  around  him,  while  the  people  of  the 
city,  assermbled  before  him  in  the  dress  of  sap- 
pliants,  and  kneeling  upon  the  pavement,  begged 
his  forgiveness,  and  implored  him  to  spare  the 
city.  These  petitions  the  great  conqueror  gra- 
ciously condescended  to  grant. 

Many  of  the  princes  and  generals  who  *-dd 
■ei-ved  under  Antony  came  next  to  beg  the  \y^y 


B.C.  30.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      307 

latoay't  fnnermL  Cleopatra' ■  wretched  aoadiltak 

of  their  commander,  that  they  might  give  it  an 
honorable  burial.  These  requests,  however,  Oo 
tavins  WDuld  not  accede  to,  saying  that  he  could 
not  take  the  body  away  from  Cleopatra.  He, 
however,  gave  Cleopatra  leave  to  make  such 
arrangements  for  the  obsequies  as  she  thought 
fit,  and  allowed  her  to  appropriate  such  sums 
of  money  from  her  treasures  for  this  purpose  as 
she  desired.  Cleopatra  accordingly  made  the 
necessary  arrangements,  and  superintended  the 
execution  of  them ;  not,  however,  with  any  de- 
gree of  calmness  and  composure,  but  in  a  state, 
on  the  contrary,  of  extreme  agitation  and  dis- 
tress. In  fact,  she  had  been  living  now  so  long 
under  the  unlimited  and  unrestrained  dominion 
of  caprice  and  passion,  that  reason  was  pretty 
effectually  dethroned,  and  all  self-control  was 
gone.  She  was  now  nearly  forty  years  of  age, 
and,  though  traces  of  her  inexpressible  beauty 
remained,  her  bloom  was  faded,  and  her  coun- 
tenance was  wan  with  the  effects  of  weeping, 
anxiety,  and  despair.  She  was,  in  a  word,  both 
in  body  and  mind,  only  the  wreck  and  ruin  oi 
what  she  once  had  been. 

When  the  burial  ceremonies  were  performed, 
and  she  found  that  all  was  over — that  Antony 
was  forever  gone,  and  she  herself  hopelessly  and 


808  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30. 

Cleopatra's  wounda  and  braUea.  She  rasoWea  to  atarre  heraaV 

irremediably  ruined — she  gave  herself  up  to  a 
perfect  phrensy  of  grief.  She  beat  her  breast, 
and  scratched  and  tore  her  flesh  so  dreadfully, 
in  the  vain  efforts  which  she  made  to  kill  her- 
self,  in  the  paroxysms  of  her  despair,  that  she 
was  soon  covered  with  contusions  and  wounds, 
which,  becoming  inflamed  and  swelled,  made 
her  a  shocking  spectacle  to  see,  and  threw  her 
into  a  fever.  She  then  conceived  the  idea  of 
pretending  to  be  more  sick  than  she  was,  and 
so  refusing  food  and  starving  herself  to  death. 
She  attempted  to  execute  this  design.  She  re- 
jected every  medical  remedy  that  was  offered 
her,  and  would  not  eat,  and  lived  thus  some 
days  without  food.  Octavius,  to  whom  every 
thing  relating  to  his  captive  was  minutely  re- 
ported by  her  attendants,  suspected  her  design. 
He  was  very  unwilling  that  she  should  die, 
having  set  his  heart  on  exhibiting  her  to  the 
Roman  people,  on  his  return  to  the  capital,  in 
his  triumphal  procession.  He  accordingly  sent 
her  orders,  requiring  that  she  should  submit  to 
the  treatment  prescribed  by  the  physician,  and 
take  her  food,  enforcing  these  his  commands 
with  a  certain  threat  which  he  imagined  might 
have  some  influence  over  her.  And  what  threat 
dofs  the  reader  imagine  could  possibly  he  de> 


B.C.  30.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      609 

nurmU  of  OcUtIiu.  Their  effect 

vised  to  reach  a  mind  so  sunk,  so  desperate,  sc 
wretched  as  hers  ?  Every  thing  seemed  already 
lost  but  life,  and  life  was  only  an  insupportable 
burden.  What  interests,  then,  had  she  still  re- 
maining upon  which  a  threat  could  take  hold  ? 

Octavius,  in  looking  for  some  avenue  by 
which  he  could  reach  her,  reflected  that  she  was 
a  mother.  Caesarion,  the  son  of  Julius  Cassar, 
and  Alexander,  Cleopatra,  and  Ptolemy,  Anto- 
ny's children,  were  still  alive.  Octavius  imag- 
ined that  in  the  secret  recesses  of  her  wrecked 
and  ruined  soul  there  might  be  some  lingering 
principle  of  maternal  affection  remaining  which 
he  could  goad  into  life  and  action.  He  accord- 
ingly sent  word  to  her  that,  if  she  did  not  yield 
to  the  physician  and  take  her  food,  he  would 
kill  every  one  of  her  children. 

The  threat  produced  its  effect.  The  crazed 
and  frantic  patient  became  calm.  She  receiv- 
ed her  food.  She  submitted  to  the  physician. 
Under  his  treatment  her  wounds  began  to  heal, 
the  fever  was  allayed,  and  at  length  she  appear- 
ed to  be  gradually  recovering. 

When  Octavius  learned  that  Cleopatra  had 
become  composed,  and  seemed  to  be  in  some 
sense  convalescent,  he  resolved  to  pay  her  a  vis^ 
It.    As  he  entered  the  room  where  she  was  con 


310  Clbopatra.  rB.C.30 

Octarlai  tMu  Cleopatrk.  Her  wretched  condltloa 

fined,  which  seems  to  have  been  still  the  upper 
chamber  of  her  tomb,  he  found  her  lying  on  a 
low  and  miserable  bed,  in  a  most  wretched  con- 
dition, and  exhibiting  such  a  spectacle  of  dis- 
ease and  wretchedness  that  he  was  shocked  at 
beholding  her.  She  appeared,  in  fact,  almost 
wholly  bereft  of  reason.  When  Octavius  came 
in,  she  suddenly  leaped  out  of  the  bed,  half  nak- 
ed as  she  was,  and  covered  with  bruises  and 
wounds,  and  crawled  miserably  along  to  her 
conqueror's  feet  in  the  attitude  of  a  suppliant. 
Her  hair  was  torn  from  her  head,  her  limbs 
were  swollen  and  disfigured,  and  great  bandages 
appeared  here  and  there,  indicating  that  there 
were  still  worse  injuries  than  these  concealed. 
From  the  midst  of  all  this  squalidness  and  mis- 
ery there  still  beamed  from  her  sunken  eyes  a 
great  portion  of  their  former  beauty,  and  her 
voice  still  possessed  the  same  inexpressible 
oharm  that  had  characterized  it  so  strongly  in 
the  days  of  her  prime.  Octavius  made  her  go 
back  to  her  bed  again  and  lie  down. 

Cleopatra  then  began  to  talk  and  excuse  her 
•elf  for  what  she  had  done,  attributing  all  the 
blame  of  her  conduct  to  Antony.  Octavius, 
however,  interrupted  her,  and  defended  Antony 
from  her  criminations,  saying  lo  hei  that  it  wai 


B.C.30.J  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      311 

The  Mm  InTontory.  Cleopatra  tn  a  ra^ 

not  his  fault  so  much  as  hers.  She  then  sud- 
denly changed  her  tone,  and  acknowledging  her 
sins,  piteously  implored  mercy.  She  begged 
Ootavius  to  pardon  and  spare  her,  as  if  now  she 
were  afraid  of  death  and  dreaded  it,  instead  of 
desiring  it  as  a  boon.  In  a  word,  her  mind, 
the  victim  and  the  prey  alternately  of  the  most 
dissimilar  and  inconsistent  passions,  was  now 
overcome  by  fear.  To  propitiate  Octavius,  she 
brought  out  a  list  of  all  her  private  treasures, 
and  delivered  it  to  him  as  a  complete  inventory 
of  all  that  she  had.  One  of  her  treasurers, 
however,  named  Zeleucus,  who  was  standing 
by,  said  to  Octavius  that  that  list  was  not  com- 
plete. Cleopatra  had,  he  alleged,  reserved  sev- 
eral things  of  great  value,  which  she  had  not 
put  down  upon  it. 

This  assertion,  thus  suddenly  exposing  her 
duplicity,  threw  Cleopatra  into  a  violent  rage. 
She  sprang  from  her  bed  and  assaulted  her  sec- 
retary in  a  most  furious  manner.  Octavius  and 
the  others  who  were  there  interposed,  and  com- 
pelled Cleopatra  to  lie  down  again,  which  she 
did,  uttering  all  the  time  the  most  grievous  com- 
plaints at  the  wretched  degradation  to  which 
ihe  was  reduced,  to  be  insulted  thus  by  her  own 
•ervant.«4  at  such  a  time      If  she  had  reservtnJ 


312  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30 

Ootarlo*  deoetred.  Cleopatra's  detennlnatloa 

any  thing,  she  said,  of  her  private  treasures,  it 
was  only  for  presents  to  some  of  her  faithful 
friends,  to  induce  them  the  more  zealously  to 
intercede  with  Octavius  in  her  behalf.  Octa- 
vius  replied  by  urging  her  to  feel  no  concern 
on  the  subject  whatever.  He  freely  gave  her, 
he  said,  all  that  she  had  reserved,  and  he  prom- 
ised in  other  respects  to  treat  her  in  the  most- 
honorable  and  courteous  manner. 

Octavius  was  much  pleased  at  the  result  of 
this  interview.  It  was  obvious,  as  it  appeared 
to  him,  that  Cleopatra  had  ceased  to  desire  to 
die ;  that  she  now,  on  the  contrary,  wished  to 
live,  and  that  he  should  accordingly  succeed  in 
his  desire  of  taking  her  with  him  to  grace  his 
triumph  at  Rome.  He  accordingly  made  his 
arrangements  for  departure,  and  Cleopatra  was 
notified  that  in  three  days  she  was  to  set  out, 
together  with  her  children,  to  go  into  Syria. 
Octavius  said  Syria,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  alarm 
Cleopatra  by  speaking  of  Rome.  She,  however 
understood  well  where  the  journey,  if  once  com- 
menced, would  necessarily  end,  and  she  was 
fully  determined  in  her  own  mind  that  she 
would  never  go  there. 

She  asked  to  be  allowed  to  pay  one  parting 
»l>it  to   Antony's   tomb.      This   request  wa« 


B.C.  30.J  The  End  of  Cleopatra       313 

Clecpatrm  tIsIUi  Antony's  tomb.  Her  composure  on  her  retttm. 

granted ;  and  she  went  to  the  tomb  with  a  few 
attendants,  carrying  with  her  chaplets  and  gar- 
lands of  flowers.  At  the  tomb  her  grief  broke 
forth  anew,  and  was  as  violent  as  ever.  She 
bewailed  her  lover's  death  with  loud  cries  and 
lamentations,  uttered  while  she  was  placing  the 
garlands  upon  the  tomb,  and  offering  the  obla- 
tions and  incense,  which  were  customary  in 
those  days,  as  expressions  of  grief  "  These," 
said  she,  as  she  made  the  offerings,  "  are  the  last 
tributes  of  affection  that  I  can  ever  pay  thee, 
my  dearest,  dearest  lord.  I  can  not  join  thee, 
for  I  am  a  captive  and  a  prisoner,  and  they  will 
not  let  me  die.  They  watch  me  every  hour, 
and  are  going  to  bear  me  far  away,  to  exhibit 
me  to  thine  enemies,  as  a  badge  and  trophy  of 
their  triumph  over  thee.  Oh  intercede,  dearest 
Antony,  with  the  gods  where  thou  art  now, 
since  those  that  reign  here  on  earth  have  utterly 
forsaken  me;  implore  them  to  save  me  from 
this  fate,  and  let  me  die  here  in  my  native  land, 
and  be  buried  by  thy  side  in  this  tomb." 

When  Cleopatra  returned  to  her  apartment 
again  after  this  melancholy  ceremony,  she  seem- 
ed to  be  more  composed  than  she  had  been  be- 
fore. She  went  to  the  bath,  and  then  she  at- 
tired herself  handsomely  for  supper.     She  had 


814  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30 

GVseiMtra'i  Mpp«r.  Tha  bukat  of  &gi. 

ordered  supper  that  night  to  be  very  sumptn- 
onsly  served.  She  was  at  liberty  to  make  these 
arrangements,  for  the  restrictions  npon  her 
movements,  which  had  been  imposed  at  first, 
were  now  removed,  her  appearance  and  de- 
meanor having  been  for  some  time  such  as  to 
lead  Ootavius  to  suppose  that  there  was  no 
longer  any  danger  that  she  would  attempt  self- 
destruction.  Her  entertainment  was  arranged, 
therefore,  according  to  her  directions,  in  a  man- 
ner corresponding  with  the  customs  of  her  court 
when  she  had  been  a  queen.  She  had  many 
attendants,  and  among  them  were  two  of  her 
own  women.  These  women  were  long-tried  and 
faithful  servants  and  friends. 

While  she  was  at  supper,  a  man  came  to  the 
door  with  a  basket,  and  wished  to  enter.  The 
guards  asked  him  what  he  had  in  his  basket. 
He  opened  it  to  let  them  see ;  and,  lifting  up 
some  green  leaves  which  were  laid  over  the  top, 
he  showed  the  soldiers  that  the  basket  was  filled 
with  figs.  He  said  that  they  were  for  Cleo- 
patra's supper.  The  soldiers  admired  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  figs,  saying  that  they  were  very 
fine  and  beautiful.  The  man  asked  the  soldiers 
to  take  some  of  thenL  This  they  declined,  but 
allowed  the  man  to  pass  in.     When  the  supper 


B.C. 30.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.       315 

Claopatrm'a  letter  to  Ootarla*.  Btm  U  facad  dead. 

was  ended,  Cleopatra  sent  all  of  her  attendants 
away  except  the  two  women.  They  remained. 
After  a  little  time,  one  of  these  women  oame 
out  with  a  letter  for  Octavius,  which  Cleopatra 
had  written,  and  which  she  wished  to  hare  im- 
mediately delivered.  One  of  the  soldiers  from 
the  guard  stationed  at  the  gates  was  accord- 
ingly dispatched  to  carry  the  letter.  Octavius, 
when  it  was  given  to  him,  opened  the  envelope 
at  once  and  read  the  letter,  which  was  written, 
as  was  customary  in  those  days,  on  a  small 
tablet  of  metal.  He  found  that  it  was  a  brief 
but  urgent  petition  from  Cleopatra,  written  ev- 
idently in  agitation  and  excitement,  praying 
that  he  would  overlook  her  offense,  and  allow 
her  to  be  buried  with  Antony.  Octavius  im- 
mediately inferred  that  she  had  destroyed  her- 
self. He  sent  off  some  messengers  at  once,  with 
orders  to  go  directly  to  her  place  of  confinement 
and  ascertain  the  truth,  intending  to  follow  them 
himself  inuuediately. 

The  messengers,  on  their  arrival  at  the  gates, 
found  the  sentinels  and  soldiers  quietly  on  guard 
before  the  door,  as  if  all  were  well.  On  enter- 
ing Cleopatra's  room,  however,  they  beheld  a 
shocking  spectacle.  Cleopatra  was  lying  dead 
upon  a  couch.     One  of  her  women  was  upon 


316  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30. 

Deatk  of  ChMrwi/M.  Amaiement  of  the  tiy-tUnden 

the  floor,  dead  too.  The  other,  whose  name 
was  Charmion,  was  sitting  over  the  body  of  her 
mistress,  fondly  caressing  her,  arranging  flowers 
in  her  hair,  and  adorning  her  diadem.  The 
messengers  of  Octavius,  on  witnessing  this  spec- 
tacle, were  overcome  with  amazement,  and  de- 
manded of  Charmion  what  it  could  mean.  "It 
is  all  right,"  said  Charmion.  "Cleopatra  has 
acted  in  a  manner  worthy  of  a  princess  descend- 
ed from  so  noble  a  line  of  kings."  As  Charmion 
said  this,  she  began  to  sink  herself,  fainting, 
upon  the  bed,  and  almost  immediately  expired. 
The  by-standers  were  not  only  shocked  at  the 
spectacle  which  was  thus  presented  before  them, 
but  they  were  perplexed  and  confounded  in  their 
attempts  to  discover  by  what  means  Cleopatra 
and  her  women  had  succeeded  in  effecting  their 
design.  They  examined  the  bodies,  but  no 
marks  of  violence  were  to  be  discovered.  They 
looked  all  around  the  room,  but  no  weapons,  and 
Qo  indication  of  any  means  of  poison,  were  to  be 
found.  They  discovered  something  that  a]> 
peared  like  the  slimy  track  of  an  animal  on  the 
wall,  toward  a  window,  which  they  thought 
might  have  been  produced  by  an  asp  ;  but  the 
animal  itself  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  They 
examined  the  boov  with   great  care,  but  no 


B.C.30.]  The  End  of  Cleopatra.      317 

VHio«*  eoiOectare*  u  to  the  cause  of  Cleopatra'i  death. 

marks  of  any  bile  or  sting  were  to  be  found,  ex- 
cept that  there  were  two  very  slight  and  scarce- 
ly-discernible punctures  on  the  arm,  which  some 
persons  fancied  might  have  been  so  caused. 
The  means  and  manner  of  her  death  seemed  to 
be  involved  in  impenetrable  mystery. 

There  were  various  rumors  on  the  subject 
subsequently  in  circulation  both  at  Alexandria 
and  at  Rome,  though  the  mystery  was  never 
fully  solved.  Some  said  that  there  was  an  asp 
concealed  among  the  figs  which  the  servant  man 
brought  in  in  the  basket ;  that  he  brought  it  in 
that  manner,  by  a  precohcerted  arrangement 
between  him  and  Cleopatra,  and  that,  when  she 
received  it,  she  placed  the  animal  on  her  arm. 
Others  say  that  she  had  a  small  steel  instru- 
ment like  a  needle,  with  a  poisoned  point,  which 
she  had  kept  concealed  in  her  hair,  and  that  she 
killed  herself  with  that,  without  producing  any 
visible  wound.  Another  story  was,  that  she  had 
an  asp  in  a  box  somewhere  in  her  apartment, 
which  she  had  reserved  for  this  occasion,  and 
when  the  time  finally  came,  that  she  pricked 
and  teased  it  with  a  golden  bodkin  to  make  it 
angry,  and  then  placed  it  upon  her  flesh  and 
received  its  sting.  Which  of  these  stories,  if 
either  of  them,  were  true,  could  never  be  knowr 


318  Cleopatra.  [B.C.  30. 

OpUon  or  OetaTtoi.  Hlj  Moaaptk 

It  has,  however,  been  generally  believed  among 
mankind  that  Cleopatra  died  in  some  way  or 
other  by  the  self-inflicted  sting  of  the  asp,  and 
paintings  and  sculptures  without  number  ha^e 
been  made  to  illustrate  and  commemorate  the 
Boene. 

This  supposition' in  respect  to  the  mode  of 
her  death  is,  in  fact,  confirmed  by  the  action 
of  Octavius  himself  on  his  return  to  Rome, 
which  furnishes  a  strong  indication  of  his  opin- 
ion of  the  manner  in  which  his  captive  at  last 
eluded  him.  Disappointed  in  not  being  able  to 
exhibit  the  queen  herself  in  his  triumphal  train, 
he  caused  a  golden  statue  representing  her  to 
be  made,  with  an  image  of  an  asp  upon  the  arm 
of  it,  and  this  sculpture  he  caused  to  be  borne 
conspicuously  before  him  in  his  grand  triumphal 
entry  into  the  capital,  as  the  token  and  trophy 
of  the  final  downfall  of  the  unhappy  Egyptian 
qaecQ. 


The  End. 


i 


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